


"Disciples of Altruism"

by fmlyhntr, jamelia116, Penny_P, Voyager_Virtual Season_7-5_Staff_Writers (jamelia116)



Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [41]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Altruism, Disasters, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-30 03:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21421528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fmlyhntr/pseuds/fmlyhntr, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/jamelia116, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penny_P/pseuds/Penny_P, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamelia116/pseuds/Voyager_Virtual%20Season_7-5_Staff_Writers
Summary: Just as representatives of the Vidiian Sodality, the Ocampa, and the United Federation of Planets prepare to sign the new treaty allowing for the colonization of New Earth, the discovery of a derelict ship leaves Kathryn Janeway questioning what the Vidiians truly want from this alliance.
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway, Neelix (Star Trek)/Original Female Character(s), T'Pel/Tuvok (Star Trek), Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Series: Voyager Virtual Season 7.5 [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1385569
Comments: 26
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Authors' Note: Thanks to Diane B. and Rocky for their detailed editing. Invidium and its propensity for nucleosynthesis were featured in the 3rd season TNG episode "Hollow Pursuits," by Sally Caves, perhaps best remembered for introducing Reg Barkley.
> 
> We'd also like to acknowledge the work of the brave emergency workers who do their best to save lives during natural disasters, especially widespread fires like the Paradise fire in California. This story was written many years before that particular disaster, but we added more details because one of our authors lives close to the burning and knows, firsthand, what that feels like. We sincerely hope all the survivors are now rebuilding their lives, just as Denara Pel and her fellow Vidiians do in our series. 
> 
> As always, we must add the standard disclaimer/lament: We don't own them, Paramount, Viacom, and CBS do.

**Voyager Virtual Season 7.5--Episode 41**

**Disciples of Altruism**

**By Christina and Penny with jamelia**

**Prologue**  
  
**_Vidalia, Vidiia--June 28, 2381 (Earth reckoning), Stardate 57490.4_**  
  
Brilliant orange and red flames spiraled and swirled upward, feeding on the buildings in its path. Denara Pel stood on the hill, mesmerized by the blossoming flames, her left hand holding a damp cloth over her nose and mouth. She'd never seen anything like it. Flames magically appeared blocks from the fire, caused by sparks carried by the fire-generated winds. Chaos ruled in the streets as panicked residents fled to the nearby park, to any open space that might be safe. Amazingly, it was only an hour since she had been among them, fleeing for her own life.  
  
Denara stared at the wild scene below her and started to cough, even as she pushed the cloth tighter to her face. She shivered as another vortex of flames spiraled upward. The memory of her apartment building exploding into flame as she'd run out the door now seem oddly distant, almost as if it had happened to someone else.  
  
"Denara," Dr. Krazel Lem, her assistant, said quietly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "The first victims are coming in."  
  
She nodded blankly. Her home for the past six years--everything she owned--was lost. All she had now were the clothes she was wearing. "Dr. Pel?"  
  
The voice of her assistant cut through the fog of her brain. She blinked. "Patients?"  
  
"Yes, Dr. Pel." She let him guide him her away from the cliff edge overlooking the southern districts of Vidalia, the political capital of Vidiia.  
  
"Do you know if the clinic is in the path of the fire?" she asked without hope as they walked toward what was going to become a makeshift triage unit and morgue. She knew their outreach clinic was gone--everything in the neighborhood was gone. The fire made it bright enough in the predawn light for her to believe that the entire district was doomed, but as she thought this, a wall of thick, toxic yellow-orange smoke started to engulf the hill.  
  
"Denara, we'll survive." He stopped walking. "Are you all right?"  
  
"I'll be okay. You?"  
  
"Fine," he said it flatly. He wasn't any better than she was. "More survivors are arriving."  
  
"Set up triage. Press any of the uninjured--anyone who can help--into service. We're going to need bandages, water...especially water."  
  
"I've already started. Captain Por is helping to coordinate. Additional medical help is being called in from outside Vidalia. Water is going to be a problem. The district tower was makeshift, remember? It burned to the ground." He pointed in the general direction of where the temporary water tower had once stood. "They're bringing in water trucks, but apparently there's some problems accessing the main aquifer."  
  
She nodded numbly as she surveyed the site. Someone had erected a large tent. "We'll need tables. And some means of heating water when we get it." She grimaced when he frowned. No, they wouldn't be allowed to start a fire, even to boil water. "Explain why sterile equipment is necessary--especially with burns. An ultraviolet source would also work. Or _cerritonol _if there's nothing else." She broke into a run when she noticed the Vidalia City Guard arriving, bearing stretchers.  
  
"Dr. Pel?" a burly Vidiian female in the gray uniform of the City Guard asked. "If you would follow me. I'm Captain Por."  
  
"How bad is the fire?" she barely coughed out. The smoke was getting thicker.  
  
"I haven't heard anything official," Por said, "but I've heard most of the Meyel district is up in flames. They've started demolishing buildings to create a firebreak near the Horspant Hospital. We should be safe here; the prevailing wind is blowing the fire toward the lake."  
  
Meyel and Horspant, she thought, two of the poorest districts in Vidalia. Too many temporary wooden shelters and not enough enforcement of the building codes. Too many desperate refugees looking for work and a cure for all their woes...just too many and not enough...  
  
She took a deep breath--she had a job to do, there would be time later to think. "What do we have?"  
  
"So far two burn cases and a sprained ankle. We've put them in the hospital tent. My troops are also working on finding tents to provide temporary shelter for the survivors. What kind of help will you require?"  
  
"Other medical personnel? Equipment?" Captain Por shook her head, so Denara continued, "Dr. Lem is setting up a triage." They both glanced back at the fire. "Find me anybody who wants to help; anybody who is healthy." Por pulled the flap of the tent back and Denara walked over to her first patient. She just hoped Por was right—that the fire would go in the direction of the wind. The smoke sure wasn’t.  
  
  
  



	2. Act 1

**ACT ONE**  
  
**_Meyel Shelter 10, Vidalia, Vidiia--July 2, 2381, Stardate 57501.5_**  
  
Denara sighed as she wiped her hands on her filthy clothes and started coughing. Even inside the shelter (actually a hanger for military storage) the smoke was still thick. So many victims. So many deaths. Rumors were flying that over four thousand Vidiians had died because of the fire and tens of thousands were homeless. No one would confirm or deny those numbers, and she was too tired to think about it. Four days of sleeping on a cot and wearing the one pair of clothes she still owned had made her appreciate the tiny apartment she’d fled a lifetime ago. She took a deep breath as she walked toward the kitchen, and hoping to find something to drink and eat.  
  
“Dr. Pel?” A male voice said. She turned.  
  
“Mr. Indorin,” she was surprised to see Tycos Indorin and Dr. Klim here. The last thing she needed at a time like this was more paperwork from Mupano Industries.  
  
“This is awful,” Klim said as she looked around. “I’ve been working at the Horspant Shelter 22. I’ll have to see what we can send you here.”  
  
Pel was too tired to try to hide her astonishment at this statement. “Thank you. We can use just about everything.” She glanced at Tycos Indorin, dressed as a firefighter. _Really?_ she wondered to herself, even as something furry ran by her feet, followed by a young Vidiian adult crying a name.  
  
“I see this shelter takes pets,” Klim said, with a tone of disgust.  
  
“We’re one of the few. Mostly _debarls_, but a few _avrids _are here too.” Denara wondered at Klim’s grimace. _Debarls _were wonderful--she’d often wished she had time for one. Before she could continue speaking, there was a loud whirring noise and Tycos looked at his wrist.  
  
“Damn,” he said. “There’s been another flare-up in the southern Meyel district. I’ve been called back in.” He took off quickly without saying anything else.  
  
“Another one?” Denara asked. “Has anyone heard when they expect containment?”  
  
Klim shook her head. “Mupano is organizing relief efforts. So far the response has been phenomenal. The first medical teams should be arriving soon...Now.” She nodded toward a group of clean and well-groomed Vidiians heading toward them. “Dr. Tramel is from Clarisk Hospital. Ahh, Dr. Tramel, this is Dr. Pel, who’s been leading the medical efforts here.”  
  
Dr. Tramel raised a phage scarred eye. “Normally I’d say it's a pleasure, but from the look of it, you’ve been working nonstop since this disaster began.”  
  
“I did lie down for a few hours, a day or so ago.”  
  
“I have 10 others with me. Get some sleep and something to eat.”  
  
“Yes, sir,” Denara whispered as the group split up and started walking among the patients, reading charts, chatting with the victims. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. “Tell Mr. Tar thank you,” she said to Klim with a smile. Denara still didn’t like her, but if Klim was volunteering at one of the shelters, she deserved one. “And Mr. Indorin?”  
  
“He’s a Volunteer Fire Captain here in the Meyel District, Mr. Tar likes his staff to work with the citizens of our planet when possible. I’ll explain to Mr. Tar that you are unavailable. He’d hoped to set up a meeting soon, but I’ll recommend it be in a week or two.”  
  
Denara nodded. Klim said her farewells, again promising to find supplies for the shelter, and left. Denara glanced around, then continued on her way to the kitchen area. Fortunately, there was soup, though it looked more like broth than anything substantial. She took a bowl. It might not taste very good, but at least it was warm. After yawning twice, she decided maybe Dr. Tramel was right and made her way to her assigned cot. At least she wasn’t sleeping outside in a tent or under a tarp--but her space really should have given to someone who really needed it.  
  
She stared at the cot. Folded neatly on the thin blanket was a pile of clothes and a note.

> _“My Dear Dr. Pel,_   
  
_I have been impressed by your work for our people before this, and even more now. I’m hoping you will accept these as a thank you for your perseverance and to help you in your work,_   
  
_Dr. Marilia Tilp”_

  
A medical smock, under clothes and a pair of slacks. And they were clean. Clean. She decided to at least try to get clean herself before sleeping.  
  
**_Captain's Quarters, Voyager II--July 6, 2381, Stardate 57513.2_**  
  
As Captain Kathryn Janeway crossed the threshold of her quarters at 2022 hours, she almost stumbled through the doorway from exhaustion. A nice long bath would be welcome, but considering the day she'd had, grabbing something to eat from the replicator first seemed advisable. Unless her husband had made them dinner, of course, but that hope faded as soon as she saw Chakotay sprawled on the couch. He wasn't sleeping, but he looked as tired as she felt.  
  
"Kathryn--if you'd let me know you were coming, I'd have fixed dinner. I didn't want to have it get cold while..."  
  
"That's okay. Other than a couple of liters of coffee, I didn't have much to eat today. It’s been a push to get the repairs done, but we’ll make the new departure date.” She had not been surprised in the least when, earlier in the day, revised orders arrived from HQ. Their leisurely “week to ten days” at Starbase 10 had been pared back to three or four at the most. She rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. Dinner first, then a nice long bath. Perhaps with some company?"  
  
He grinned. "Afraid you'll fall asleep in the bathtub?"  
  
"You'll keep me from drowning, won't you?" she teased, smiling back at him.  
  
As they were getting their simple supper together, just grilled cheese sandwiches and plain tomato soup, Kathryn said, "B'Elanna told me you volunteered to help with the repairs in Engineering today. Thank you, my dear."  
  
"I may not be in Starfleet anymore, but I don't mind doing what I can. With all the changes to the systems, I couldn't do a lot on my own. B'Elanna had me checking out gelpacks with this ensign she doesn't seem to trust to do much more than scrubbing plasma manifolds."  
  
"Ah, Ensign Murphy." She shook her head with a bemused smile. B’Elanna had given her another earful about the hapless ensign earlier in the day. 

"He seems to have earned quite a reputation for himself in Engineering," Chakotay chuckled.  
  
"That he has. You know, she thought we were recruiting Hugh Murphy when she requested 'Ensign Murphy' to become part of her staff."  
  
"But wasn't he promoted once we returned to the Alpha Quadrant?"  
  
"He was, but B'Elanna hadn't specified a _Lieutenant_ Murphy, so..." She let the thought trail off, an invitation to contemplate the vast bureaucracy of the Office of Starfleet Personnel.  
  
"By the time we get back from the Delta Quadrant, B'Elanna will have sorted him out."  
  
"I'm sure she will, too."  
  
For several minutes they ate in silence. After the rigors of the past week, and despite the repair efforts that had required so much of her attention that day, just having a few quiet moments with her husband without having to worry about the survival of the galaxy was a relief in and of itself.  
  
Her peaceful mood was broken when Chakotay commented, "Kathryn, you haven't said too much about the message from Headquarters officially, but the new departure date has spawned the rumor that we're going to be making 'best time' to Ocampa and Vidiia."  
  
"Scuttlebutt--the fastest communication system in Starfleet.” She shook her head, and sighed. “Yes, it’s true. I told you about the terrible fire in the Vidiian capital. It's worse than first reported. More than a thousand people are already known dead, and at least a thousand more are missing. The Vidiians will have a hard time finding new homes for all those who lost everything. It looks like there will be a third colony on New Earth now, of Vidiians starting over. The situation is apparently pretty desperate. They need us there as soon as possible."

He sat up a little straighter. "Was Dr. Pel affected?"  
  
"The message from Vidiia said she's okay, and that she's been treating patients in a shelter. But apparently she lost her clinic. She's one of the displaced."  
  
"Well, it looks like I'll be working in Engineering again tomorrow, or anywhere else you need me to help."  
  
"Chakotay...."  
  
"I don't mind. There's not a lot for an archaeologist to do on this ship right now. I'm happy to help out where I can."  
  
Kathryn took his hand and squeezed it for several seconds, thanking him wordlessly for being the man he was.  
  
  
**_Mupano Industries Offices--July 19, 2381--Stardate 57547.2_**  
  
Two hours. Denara Pel had been sitting here in Dr. Klim’s office for two whole hours. Or was it longer? Tycos Indorin and Dr. Klim had gone over all her notes and accounts. All the goodwill their visit at the shelter three weeks ago had generated in her was gone.  
  
Denara Pel looked up, hoping the knock at the office door meant an emergency requiring immediate attention. Anything to get away from the two representatives of Mupano Industries who sat opposite her with their neatly piled reports at their side, and their fixed smiles of mannequins and voices that never varied in their unmodulated pleasantness. As the sponsor of the clinic and of her research, she expected to report to the company periodically on her progress. She had originally hoped to do that in writing, but not this time. This time, she'd been asked to come to the main headquarters of Mupano Industries, so they could 'explore' the ramifications of last week's fire.  
  
Ramifications indeed. The clinic had suffered severe smoke and water damage--although the basic shell of the building had miraculously survived somehow. It would be weeks before they could reopen for patients, however, more likely months. The whole infrastructure needed to be inspected and repaired or rebuilt before anyone could, at least legally, start rebuilding the interior office spaces. More likely, it would take even longer, as the damage was catastrophic.  
  
Fortunately, she was meticulous in her record keeping and had kept a backup with a friend. She had only lost a week or two’s worth of data. The two-hour inquisition that followed, though, was unlike anything she had ever experienced. While Lendar Klim was merely annoying, the aloof politeness of Mupano Industries' Chief Financial Officer, Tycos Indorin, chilled her. Eventually she realized that they weren't interested in her answers at all. They were there to deliver a message. Her responses were irrelevant.  
  
Klim had been very explicit. Mupano had already opened a second clinic, this time, for wealthier clients. He expected her and her associate, Dr. Krazel to work there. As he had said, she could still do her research, but at least her patients could pay. Denara tried to explain a new clinic was great, but she wanted a clinic to replace the one she’d lost: one for the people who could not otherwise afford care. They listened politely as she explained her position, then restated theirs. And so it had gone for two hours.  
  
She was tired from sleeping on a cot in the shelter. She felt rumpled even though she now had three sets of clothing. As far as she was concerned, there was no reason for the meeting to go on any longer.  
  
So the knock at the door came as a welcome interruption, and Denara could only hope it signaled the end of this interview. Lendar Klim stood. "I'll tell them to return this afternoon." She went to the door.  
  
Denara's attention drifted away from the endless reports. There was nothing wrong in her accounts; even Klim had said so.  
  
"I'm sorry. Dr. Pel is in an important meeting," Klim said.  
  
"Not that important," Denara muttered to herself.  
  
"My orders come directly from President Dop himself. Dr. Denara Pel is to report to Sodality Hall immediately." Stunned, Denara turned to see who the speaker was. Why had the President sent a member of the Vidalia City Guard? And why had they bothered to track her down?  
  
Rising, she faced the Mupano representatives. "We can continue this discussion later," she said, suddenly hoping it was true. Perhaps she was being arrested. She couldn't think of any other reason the President would send armed officers for her.  
  
"Perhaps when you are next available," Tycos Indorin said with the same fixed smile he had worn all day. As he closed his briefcase, though, she thought she saw a flicker of something change in his expression.  
  
Denara hesitated. The brief look in Indorin's eyes suggested he knew something--but what? Had they trumped up some charges against her? No, that was ridiculous.  
  
  
**_President Dop’s Offices, Vidalia, Vidiia--July 19, 2381--Stardate 57547.7_**  
  
Still feeling uncertain, Denara started to sit down in the reception area, wondering just how long she would have to wait until someone told her what was happening. Before she made it to the chair, President Dop himself entered. Even though she had met with him before, she straightened instinctively in his presence, standing as erect as any soldier. Physically unimposing and gentle in his demeanor, Dop nonetheless conveyed the dignity of his office in his manner and posture.  
  
"Doctor Pel, thank you for coming so quickly," he said warmly. "We’ve heard from the Federation envoys again. They are planning on being here in about four months.”  
  
Denara smiled. "That is excellent news, Mister President." And it was, although it didn't explain why armed officers had brought her here. Still, it didn't appear that she was under arrest--and she was grateful for the excuse to leave her meeting.  
  
"But where are my manners? Please--" he motioned her into his office, following a step behind her. "Dr. Pel, you know these Federation people better than anyone else on Vidiia."  
  
"That's probably true." Inside the office, she stopped in puzzlement. Mupano Tar, the chief executive of Mupano Industries and sponsor of her clinic and research, was standing by a desk. Suddenly, she was keenly aware of her dirty and wrinkled clothes and felt unkempt and out of place. She turned around, but President Dop seemed happily unaware of both her confusion and her disarray. He went on, "And there are still some in the Sodality who believe that the Federation, especially Captain Janeway, are mass murderers. I know--" he held up a hand to forestall her objections "--this is nothing but rumor from the Kazon, who obviously have their own spin on what happened at Sobras. But you have to admit, the rumors about the Borg are harder to explain. This is obviously not the way to begin a new alliance."  
  
"Sir?" She wasn't following this at all.  
  
"Please, have a seat, Doctor." Dop leaned against his desk, and gestured for Tar to sit in a nearby chair. "As you know, Ronen Loa had been selected to be our representative, but sadly, he was badly injured in the recent tragic fire. It will be months, if ever, before he can return to active service. You understand we need to find someone who the Federation can trust--and who trusts the Federation--to serve as our ambassador..."  
  
He let the sentence trail off, and simply looked at her. She stared back at him, still standing. It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, and then she was certain she misunderstood. "Me?"  
  
"After much deliberation, the Sodality has agreed to my suggestion that you would be an excellent ambassador to the Federation. We've had little use for diplomats until recently," he smiled sardonically at that, "and you know the needs of Vidiia as well as any politician--probably even better." He stood and extended his hand. It held the lapel pin that signified an official representative of the Sodality. "Congratulations, Ambassador Pel."  
  
She sat down. "I'm a doctor, sir. My clinic, my work..."  
  
"As your own history has shown, the Federation has medical technologies vastly different from our own. Perhaps with their help you can continue your work on New Earth while still performing your diplomatic duties. A new perspective, perhaps?"  
  
"I...ummm."  
  
Dop chuckled. "Denara, you know we need outside alliances. But considering our history, it'll be a long time before that happens. This alliance is important to Vidiia. I'm hoping the Federation can help us prove our good intentions."  
  
Tar stood. "I must offer my congratulations as well. And don't worry about your work. I can assure you, we recognize that your work is vital to the survival of our people. Mupano Industries would be honored to continue funding your research and work."  
  
She clasped her hands, trying to make sense of it all. "I understand, sir. Can I think about this?"  
  
"Don't take too long. _Voyager_ will be here soon, and we need your input now to prepare for its arrival." He looked at the pin still in his hand, and then gently but firmly took hers and pressed it against her palm. "Why don't you keep this while you're thinking it over. It will save time if you decide to accept--which I sincerely hope you will."  
  
She stared at the intricately wrought brooch and swallowed. Dop's care-lined face relaxed, giving her a glimpse of the man rather than the President. "I know it's overwhelming," he almost whispered to her, "but we do need you. Please remember that."  
  
Without thinking, she closed her fingers over the pin and nodded. "Yes, Mr. President. I'll--I'll get back to you soon, I promise."  
  
"Thank you." He gave her a final smile of encouragement and then walked behind his desk to sit. Realizing the meeting was over, Denara turned to leave.  
  
Mupano Tar accompanied her into the hall. "You shouldn't be surprised by the Sodality's decision. You are a logical choice for this honor."  
  
"Honor? What about my work?"  
  
Tar smiled. "President Dop is correct. As our ambassador to the Federation, you can help our people in ways I don't think you can imagine. The Federation doctors may even be able to offer a new perspective on your work. Again, congratulations."  
  
He walked away, leaving her standing with her mouth slightly open. "Ambassador Pel," she muttered, then shook her head. Both men had a point. She was the logical person. She was probably the only person on all of Vidiia who had spent more than a few hours with the crew of _Voyager_, and certainly the only one they would be likely to trust. And trust was absolutely necessary if the alliance were to succeed.  
  
She turned around and walked back into the office.  
  
Dop looked up from the PADD he was studying, but he didn't look surprised at her intrusion. "Well?" he asked.  
  
"I may regret this, but I accept."  
  
He relaxed, and then he straightened. "Of course you will. Because you love Vidiia. You and I are much alike, Denara. We both see the potential of our people, and we are willing to do almost anything to see it fulfilled." Then he smiled again. "Starting tomorrow, you have my staff at your disposal. Use them for the more mundane aspects of your transition. You'll find them most effective at dealing with petty bureaucrats."  
  
  
**_Ocampa Caverns --August 15, 2381 Stardate 57620.7_**  
  
When the beings who called themselves "Boothby" and "Valerie Archer" shimmered into existence deep beneath the surface of the dry, dusty planet known as Ocampa, they caused quite a stir. Before the demise of the Nacene alien who called himself "The Caretaker," the Ocampa had frequently received visitations from individuals of previously-unknown alien species who required medical attention. What little the Ocampa knew of the vast space existing outside of their walls came from these visitors. The Ocampa listened to their stories, provided treatment to soothe their painful sores, good food, beds to sleep in, and tender care for as long as those individuals lived--which was never very long. Virtually all of these individuals perished in a very short time.  
  
There were a couple of exceptions. A woman named B'Elanna Torres and a young man named Harry Kim received treatment and told their stories, but their people rescued them and brought them to their own spaceships before they expired. One Ocampa went with them, the adventurous, barely-out-of-adolescence Kes. Years later, Kes returned to the caverns. After confirming that B’Elanna and Harry had survived, she added that she’d come back to help the Ocampa search for a new home in the galaxy.  
  
Since so much time had passed since anyone other than Kes had transported inside the planet, the appearance of Boothby and Valerie created quite a sensation. As if by magic, huge numbers of Ocampa poured out of every nook and cranny and filled the huge cavern that had been their home for centuries.  
  
For beings from Fluidic Space, a world that was comprised largely of inorganic matter was foreign, indeed, even though the visitors were disguised as Ocampa. The natural habitat of the people dubbed by the Borg as “Species 8472” was a fluid. This tripedal species utilized technology that was entirely organic in nature.  
  
Although she’d lived for a time on one of her people's “listening post” stations, as well as some maintained by the natives of what the people of Fluidic Space called "Dry Space," Valerie had never been around so many alien beings at once--all crammed into what seemed to her as a small, claustrophobia-inducing space. Valerie, a bit intimidated, turned towards the loveliest sight in this place: the fall of hydrogen dioxide splashing down into a pristine pool. The sound of flowing water was very reassuring. She suspected it was for Boothby, too, even though she knew he’d never admit it to _her_.  
  
"Don't get too close to that lake, Valerie," Boothby whispered. "Who knows what you'd look like if you fell in? I don't think these people would appreciate our usual appearance."  
  
"Don't worry about me. I don't plan on taking a...what do these bipedal humanoids call it? A swim? But the lovely spray drifting over from that waterfall feels wonderful, doesn't it?"  
  
He didn't have a chance to answer. Several voices called out, and the crowd, which had been almost ominously silent, obediently parted to allow a party of obviously distinguished Ocampa to approach the Fluidians' position. At the very back of the procession, the head of a slight, very elderly Ocampa woman was barely visible. As soon as the entire party cleared the parted crowd and were approaching Valerie and Boothby, however, the old woman nimbly circumvented the others and called out, "Boothby! Valerie! Oh, it's so good to see you again." She ran up to them, put out her arms, and hugged both of them simultaneously.  
  
"It's good to see you, too, Kes," Boothby said, his voice gurgling a little with suppressed emotion. Valerie smiled to hear it, because if she let herself, she'd be gurgling with emotion, too. It was one of those traits of her people she'd never been able to completely eradicate whenever she assumed a Dry Space being's form.  
  
Kes quickly stepped back and formally introduced the newcomers to the distinguished group. As Valerie had surmised, they were the Ocampa Governing Council members, headed by a rather tall, pleasant looking woman. "Vertris, I met Boothby and Valerie on the space station where the Ocampa who left with the other Caretaker live. They were very helpful during my search for our new home. And Boothby, this is Josan, my...'nephew,' I believe you would say. I live with Josan's family. He's the head of the Transport Planning Group. As our liaison to our Vidiian counterparts, you'll be working with him very closely until the plans for our move are set."  
  
"We were sorry to hear that your Caretaker has also died, Boothby and Valerie. We're so grateful that you're willing to help us," Vertris said, as a group of the council members joined Boothby and Josan and began to discuss transportation issues.  
  
_[[I like the way you introduced us, Kes.]] _Valerie's telepathic communication was answered by a ripple of amusement from Kes.  
  
_[[I didn't say anything that wasn't true,]] _Kes responded in the same way. _[[I don't think they're ready to find out about Fluidic Space quite yet, and if they've jumped to conclusions about who you are based upon your appearance, they'll learn the truth in time.]]_  
  
_[[I'm sure they will. You're getting to be quite the little diplomat, Kes. That's something you'll definitely need to be, dealing with the Vidiians.]]_  
  
_[[I've had a little experience with that already,]] _Kes said, with another ripple of amusement. What she said aloud, however, was, "Valerie, while Boothby is involved with transport issues, why don't you come with me and I'll show you around, so you can see what we've accomplished here."  
  
As Kes gestured them away, the other Ocampa stepped back to form a corridor in the middle of the crowd, permitting the two females to pass through to the outside perimeter of the main cavern. Regrettably, it took Valerie away from the scent of water vapor, but she did appreciate having a little space around her to breathe in the air. Thanks to the waterfall, it wasn't anywhere near as dry as the surface of the world must be. She was thankful for that.  
  
Valerie didn't think the crowd as a whole would stay to watch what she thought would quickly turn into a very boring discussion, since it was evolving into an exchange of arcane details about the logistics of moving their populace. To her surprise, it seemed that the number of Ocampa bystanders seemed to be growing. They passed near some of the newer arrivals, who turned and stared openly at Valerie.  
  
More than a little unnerved, she said to Kes, "I can't believe it. I think more of your people are here now than when we first arrived."  
  
"Oh, believe it, Valerie. You're _strangers, _from the_ outside_. You may look like an ordinary Ocampa now, but they know you aren't from 'in here.' You must understand. Since the time of the Caretaker's death ten years ago, the only 'outsider' to arrive in these caverns was me, when I came back home a couple of years ago. The average lifespan of my people is nine years. Hardly any of the Ocampa alive now have ever seen anyone other than our own people. I'm already considered a true ancient, and an anomaly, because I lived somewhere else for so long and met so many strangers."  
  
_[[My people will have to get used to meeting aliens, and you're giving them the very first chance to do that--even if you don't look alien._ _They'll be amazed when they find out the first true aliens they met were you and Boothby. I'm actually looking forward to that day. I hope I live that long.]]_  
  
_[[Oh, Kes, you'll outlive us all.]]_  
  
"I doubt that," Kes said aloud, "but thank you anyway. Now, before I take you to the medical laboratories, let's take a walk through our hydroponic gardens. I'm very proud of the good work we do there. We grow all of our own food. My parents brought me along to work with them when I was just a little girl. I've always felt closest to their spirits whenever I visit the gardens..."  
  
  
**_Medical Laboratory, Ocampa Caverns --August 15, 2381 Stardate 57621.9_**  
  
"Glad you finally found your way here," Valerie said, as Boothby walked into the brightly lit medical labs. "Kes was just preening about her successful experiments in the realm of vaccine cultivation."  
  
"Not experiments. Successes!" Kes exclaimed. "Just yesterday, we confirmed that the vaccine prevents infection by the New Earth insects, for an Ocampa, at least. I've created versions that should prevent infection for Vidiians, Talaxians, Klingons, and Homo Sapiens--that's what the humans really call their own species, you know."  
  
"Yes, the 'wise man.' Considering their long and bloody history, that's an ironic term for their species," Boothby said.  
  
"I doubt any species can say they've never made any mistakes as a people. I know mine decided the stories about the Ocampa mental abilities were myths, total fiction, and denied themselves their own heritage. I hope to undo that before I leave this plane of existence; but losing sight of your own past and refusing to develop your latent abilities is a big mistake, in my opinion."  
  
"You have a point, Missy."  
  
"Now, I wouldn't want any of your people to become infected by those nasty bugs, either, but I haven't even tried to formulate a 'Fluidian' version, since I didn't have any of your genetic material available for me to use. Would you care to donate some?" Kes asked.  
  
"I doubt those insects would be able to make much of a dent in our genetic material. DNA. Whatever your Dry Space people call it," Boothby growled good-naturedly.  
  
Kes laughed. "I remember the Doctor telling us how densely packed your DNA was when he was trying to keep poor Harry Kim from being eaten alive by his allergic reaction to one of your people. When you were going to purge all our Dry Space of life, if I recall correctly?"  
  
Valerie started to laugh. Boothby scrunched up his nose and wrinkled his forehead until his bushy white eyebrows wavered precariously back and forth, as if a ripple of his actual being was trying to emerge. "I'll grant you, that probably _was_ a mistake. We're still watching out for all of you people, you know. But that taunt we sent you then was a rather extreme reaction to those soulless Borg killers."  
  
The atmosphere in the lab chilled noticeably. There was nothing funny about the Borg, or what had happened to the vast majority of them. "They paid a terrible price in the end, thanks to Captain Janeway and her crew. And all of those drones weren't even really responsible for the things they did. The Queen was the one who controlled them all. In a way, they really were without souls as long as they were among the assimilated," Valerie pointed out sadly.  
  
"Well, let's talk about better days to come, Kes. How do you plan to make sure this vaccine of yours works on the other species, like the Talaxians. Or the humans and Klingons for that matter? There aren't any around here now."  
  
"No, you're right, Boothby. We'll have to wait until the task force arrives. The Doctor can check on my work then. He'll have to make sure it works for the other species who are traveling with the task force, like the Vulcans and the Bajorans, or devise new versions for them. I'm sure he'll have no trouble, now that we have a template for a working vaccine for one species. And from my tests on the DNA samples of the species I do have, it does seem to work for all of them."  
  
Valerie mused, "I'm surprised you had human and Klingon DNA to work with. I understand why the Vidiians would have it for their own species, and for the Talaxians, but how would they obtain Klingon or human samples?"  
  
"Oh, I'm fairly certain they came from Dr. Sulan's facility. The Vidiians captured Tom Paris, B'Elanna Torres, and a Lieutenant Durst very early in _Voyager's_ journey. Commander Chakotay saved B'Elanna and Tom, but poor Peter Durst was cut up into body parts before they could be rescued. I'm sure that 'mad doctor,' as Tom called him, kept samples of their DNA." Kes sighed. "Dr. Sulan split B’Elanna into two people, one all Klingon, and one completely human. The Klingon died, but the Doctor was able to reintegrate her DNA into the survivor. It was a very difficult transition. B’Elanna had always wanted to be 'all human,' but without her Klingon heritage, she would have died from malnutrition."  
  
"Oh, here you are, Boothby," Josan interrupted, as he walked into the lab. "I've been looking all over for you. I might have known you'd be visiting with our Auntie Kes. Vertris wants to know if you have a list of the vessels that have already committed to bringing us to New Earth. We need to know the capacity of each one so we can assign the initial groups of colonists to them for departure."  
  
"Ah, yes. I do. I have them right here." Boothby produced a small PADD from a pocket in his clothing and handed it to Josan. Turning to Kes, Boothby added, "One of the vessels that Mupano Industries has contracted with to transport colonists is _The Victorious Morning. _I met the captain. He says he knows you."  
  
"Captain Jixtan! Oh, by all means, you must put us down to travel in his ship. He's a wonderful person. Talaxian, you know. He loved to flatter me and say how pretty I was--as old as I am! He reminds me of my old boyfriend Neelix."  
  
"Really? He wanted Valerie and me to hire on as members of his crew."  
  
"Would you be able to do that, since you're our liaison with the Vidiians?" Josan asked.  
  
"By then, others will have taken over that position. And if this Captain Jixtan has made such an impression on your 'Auntie Kes,' I think I might like working for him."  
  
"I think that's a wonderful idea," Valerie enthused. "And speaking of your liaison duties, Boothby, don't we need to get back on our ship and return to Vidiia?"  
  
"Yes, we should, Valerie. Soon. First, we need to set up the communication equipment we brought for you, Josan. We've implanted a subspace communication relay device inside the debris field that used to be the Caretaker's Array. I'll show you how to use the system. You'll be able to contact the Vidiian authorities directly from now on without needing anyone coming here in person."  
  
Once Boothby and Josan had gone, Valerie turned to Kes and sighed. "I guess it's time for me to say good-bye, too--just for a while. I think traveling with your Talaxian friend is a wonderful idea."  
  
"I do, too. But I hope you won't say good-bye just yet. I'd like to try to contact Tuvok again with your help, and perhaps with Boothby's, too. If we're successful, we'll be able to let him know how things are going here, and he can let the Doctor know about the vaccine I've prepared. Subspace communication systems are wonderful, but I think I'd prefer to try our 'telepathy communication system' method again. It's good to touch minds with a friend like Tuvok."  
  
"I think it's pretty good to touch minds with you, too, Kes," Valerie replied. Together, they sent a telepathic message to Boothby, who grumpily replied, _[[I'll be back soon, Kes, if this nephew Josan of yours ever stops rattling on about transporting thousands of Ocampa to their promised land...]]_  
  
  
**_Voyager II--August 16, 2381, Stardate 57622.2_**  
  
Kathryn looked up from her terminal at the sound of her announcer. “Enter,” she called out. She was not particularly surprised to see her first officer enter her Ready Room, but the fact that he was accompanied by his wife was cause for comment. “T’Pel! How nice to see you. I hope you aren’t experiencing any problems...”  
  
“Not a problem, Captain,” T’Pel said. We have news.”  
  
“Kes contacted us last night, Captain. We did not feel the need to disturb your rest at the time, but we believe we should convey her message to you without further delay.”  
  
Kathryn stood up and moved from her desk, gesturing towards the lounge area of her Ready Room before sitting down across from the couple. “Has something happened? Will it affect our mission?”  
  
“No, nothing like that. Her message was actually a positive one. She will now be in regular contact with Vidiia, as a system of communicating with the Sodality has been procured by the Ocampa. The equipment was delivered by two individuals with whom we have had prior contact: the Species 8472 avatars--or rather, the Fludidans we know as Boothby and Valerie Archer.”  
  
Kathryn leaned back against the back of the sofa. “That’s how Kes has been able to contact you all along.”  
  
“Yes, Captain. I do not know if Captain La Forge or Captain Merves were given the particulars, but for us to share any of what Kes conveyed to us last night, we would need to inform them about how we learned it.”  
  
“I quite agree. What else did Kes tell you?”  
  
“When I told her that we expect to arrive in the region by the end of October, or shortly after Stardate 57800, she was quite pleased. The Ocampa are making a great deal of progress with their plans for their move. They have already begun to assign the initial group of colonists to the ships which will carry them to New Earth. Kes expects this first group will be ready to move to New Earth by the end of November. And she reported her success in developing a vaccine that protects the Ocampa from the New Earth virus. From the tests she was able to make using samples in her possession for Talaxians, Klingons, and humans, it appears likely to protect individuals from those races, too.”  
  
“I’ll let Doctor Zimmerman know about that. He believes he’s developed his own vaccine, based upon the antidote Dr. Pel supplied for Chakotay and me, but he doesn’t have any of the actual insect venom to test its efficacy. Once we arrive, I’m sure it won’t take him long to complete his own vaccines. What else did she say?”  
  
“Not much more, Captain. She knows we are in contact with Vidiia using the Project Pathway technology, of course, but I believe she desired to...touch minds with T’Pel and me directly. I must confess, the exchange was an extremely pleasant one for me, and for my wife, as well.” Tuvok turned to T’Pel, whose very Vulcan-appropriate nod did not disguise the bright gleam in her eyes. Kathryn could not completely hide her amusement at T’Pel’s obvious relish at being included in trans-galactic communications with Kes. T’Pel had missed so much of Tuvok’s life in Starfleet; this voyage must be extremely satisfying for her. And Kathryn was privately amazed that while Tuvok almost always maintained a solemn expression, his wife could maintain the serene aspect all Vulcans were supposed to assume at all times while still expressing her appreciation of being included in events such as this in many subtle ways.  
  
Turning back to the conversation at hand, Kathryn said, “I think I must let Geordi and Joshua know about this contact. I’m sure they’ll question how we know all this when we’re not due for another datastream contact from Headquarters until next week, so I’ll need to let them know the means, too. They may have been informed by Admiral Hayes about Kes’s contacts with you and told to keep the Fluidians’ involvement to themselves unless they found it necessary to divulge it. And if they didn’t know before, I’ll let them know now, and that they must keep their knowledge of the Fluidians to themselves until we’re told we can reveal it. I know I was warned to keep that on a need-to-know basis.”  
  
“Captain, while I am grateful for the assistance the Fluidians are giving Kes and the Ocampa, I do question their motives. What do they have to gain? Have they finally decided _not _to attack our space to purge the galaxy of all life?”  
  
“I assume they still have at least some of their ‘listening posts’ in our space. They must have learned about the destruction of the Borg, and it's probable they know it was through our efforts. It is possible they wish to thank us by helping Kes and her people, who will surely perish if they are not rescued from their current living situation. To save the Ocampa in this way, if they wish to destroy everyone in our galaxy, is beyond my comprehension. So, while it’s wise to be cautious, this suggests our ‘Second Contact’ with their species was successful--although I’m sure Ambassador Diaza would be reluctant to give us that much credit.”  
  
Tuvok’s only response was to nod with an uplifted right eyebrow, but T'Pel offered, “Captain Janeway, I did not actively participate in the ‘discussions’ between Kes, the Fluidians, and my husband. I was simply a facilitator and an observer. In that role, I opened my mind to any hostile undercurrents that might exist within the telepathic communications between the parties involved. I sensed no hostility from the Fluidians--quite the contrary. All seemed as it should be. It is difficult, you understand, if not impossible, to maintain a falsehood during telepathic encounters. I believe your supposition that the Fluidians now believe we mean them no harm must be correct.”  
  
“I hope you’re right, T’Pel. It must have been a fascinating experience for you.”  
  
“Indeed, Captain. During our previous encounters, the figures were quite shadowy, although their thoughts came through clearly as long as I maintained physical contact with my husband. On this occasion, it was as if the five of us were together in one room. I could _see _all of them as clearly as I could perceive their thoughts. That may be due to our closer proximity to Ocampa, or because of the assistance from the additional member of the Fluidian species who participated on this occasion. Whatever the reason, it was, as you say, a fascinating experience. I look forward to learning more about all of the species with whom we will interact. My personal and professional lives will intersect in a way I expect to be completely satisfying. I must thank you for allowing me to be part of your crew for this mission.”  
  
“And I thank you for agreeing to come with us. I cannot imagine this mission without your husband supporting me as my first officer. Thank you both for being part of it.”  
  
  
  



	3. Act 2

  
  
**ACT TWO**  
  
**_Ocampa--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57847.5_**  
  
Captain Kathryn Janeway wondered at the irony as she entered the transporter room. The last time she'd gone into the Ocampan underground city had been to find two missing crew members, angry that they'd been taken in the first place. Chakotay and Tom had been with her then. She would have liked them to accompany her now, but...  
  
Ambassador Shuba Diaza's antennae twitched, a sign, she'd learned on their journey, of his impatience. Fortunately, the arrival of the rest of the away team cut off any comment he might have made.  
  
Not that she lacked comments of her own. Her original plans had been overruled by the ambassador with very little explanation. She had intended to have Tom, Dr. Zimmerman, and Chakotay accompany her, on the theory that familiar faces would provide reassurance to the Ocampa. Instead, Diaza had exercised his authority over diplomatic contacts and decreed that the landing party would be the ambassador, Daeja Thev, and two security guards--and Captain Janeway, if she insisted.  
  
_It could be worse,_ she thought. _We could have Prolak with us, too._ The Romulan observer had asked to come, but Diaza had found some elaborately polite way to say no. At least Prolak could take that up with him.  
  
And she didn't want to risk having still another argument with the Andorian about her decision to leave _Pioneer_ in orbit around New Earth, to complete the planetary surveys and finalize the layouts of the Federation and Ocampa colonies. The colonists would be safer there. She'd wanted _Odyssey_ and _Voyager_ here, at yellow alert, since the Kazon were still a force in the sector (even if the intelligence reports supplied by the Vidiians and Kes indicated little activity in the immediate region). Suddenly, she wondered if Diaza had any plans to negotiate with the Kazon.  
  
"At least he allowed you along," Daeja Thev whispered. Kathryn just nodded. She suspected that Ambassador Shuba Diaza would have preferred her to remain on the ship.  
  
"Captain," the young ensign at the transporter console said. "We've received confirmation of your destination. I've entered the coordinates."  
  
"Very good." Kathryn glanced around then motioned everyone to step onto the transporter pads. She rather hoped Diaza's frown was because the ensign had spoken to her and ignored him. When everyone was in place, she nodded.  
  
The five reappeared in an enormous underground chamber. It was larger than she remembered. And much more crowded. She'd known the Ocampan population was increasing, but she'd not known by how much. No wonder they were looking for a new world.  
  
"Captain!!!" Kathryn suddenly found herself on the receiving end of a bear hug. For a moment, she couldn't see who it was, but the voice was unmistakable.  
  
"Kes," she said, returning the embrace, but carefully. The bones beneath her hands felt frail, and the body too thin.  
  
The Ocampan stepped back. Her hair was thin and white, her skin wrinkled, but the eyes were still bright--and filled with apprehension. Still, her smile was welcoming. "Oh, it's so good to see you again."  
  
"And you," Kathryn replied without hesitation. This was the Kes she remembered, the sweet soul and trusted friend. The unfortunate incident when she returned to _Voyager_ was clearly an aberration. She smiled and was pleased to see Kes relax.  
  
The potentially awkward moment over, Kathryn became formal once again. "This is Ambassador Shuba Diaza and his attaché, Commander Daeja Thev."  
  
"And I'd like to introduce council members Vertris and Mairel," Kes answered.  
  
Shuba Diaza stepped forward and bowed politely before council member Vertris. "I wish to thank you for your generous invitation to the Federation to assist in your relocation. I hope this is going to be the start of a warm relationship..."  
  
Kes nodded at him, but turned to Kathryn. "Couldn't the Doctor or Neelix come?"  
  
Kathryn adopted her poker face as Diaza took over the diplomatic conversation. Annoying as he was, she couldn't afford to antagonize the ambassador. "Neelix and the Doctor are on the ship. They can't wait to see you." That was something else the ambassador had objected to, Neelix and Sarexa's transferring to _Voyager_.  
  
"How is Neelix?" Kes asked. Janeway frowned at the question, as she wondered just what to tell her.  
  
"He's fine." Janeway hesitated, then added diffidently, "He brought his wife." She relaxed when Kes's smile grew bigger.  
  
"I'm so glad he found someone."  
  
Impulsively, she took both of Kes's hands in her own. "Her name is Sarexa, and she's Talaxian. One of the survivors from a Borg ship we rescued."  
  
"I'd heard you destroyed the Borg."  
  
"We don't know for sure how much damage we did." Kathryn wondered just how Kes had known that--but felt compelled not to ask--at least not in the presence of others.  
  
Kes nodded, then stepped back. "Captain, I'd like to apologize..."  
  
"Kes, I understand." Whatever else Kes was going to say was cut off by a cough. They returned their attention to Ambassador Diaza. "Ambassador?"  
  
"Captain Janeway," he said in a flat voice. "It's so good of you to pay attention to these proceedings. We will be meeting with the Ocampa Governing Council now. If you would care to attend?"  
  
"Captain Janeway," Mairel said with a polite bow. "We have heard so much about you."  
  
Thank you," she replied. She guessed he was three or four years old, a thought that suddenly gave her pause. It seemed strange to think that of all the Ocampa present, it was likely that only Kes had been alive when _Voyager_ had first visited this planet.  
  
"Does it seem much changed since you were here?" Mairel asked as they walked toward one of the tunnels leading away from the chamber.  
  
"Yes. A lot has changed."  
  
"As you can see, our population is growing," Kes said. "The supplies and energy the Caretaker left us are running out."  
  
"How did he expect you to survive once they ran out?" Kathryn had puzzled over this for years.  
  
"He didn't," Kes said angrily. "Which is why he deliberately repressed our fertility, so our species would slowly become extinct over time." Kathryn looked at her curiously, and Kes took a quick breath before she resumed speaking in a much quieter voice. "I can't believe it was mere chance that our food supplies were contaminated with a compound that suppressed our fertility. Is it a coincidence that as we've had to raise and eat more and more of our own food, our life spans have also increased?"  
  
With a discreet cough, Diaza turned and glared at Kathryn. She didn't have to be a telepath to know he was displeased with the course of the conversation. Then, apparently satisfied that he had made his point, he quite deliberately moved closer to Vertris and several other council members who'd joined the group.  
  
At the same time, two of the Ocampan councilors glanced at Kes with a look of dismay. Kes bowed her head politely. "I'm being reminded that this is not part of today's agenda. I'll fill you in later."  
  
Janeway nodded, and then quickly changed the topic--to a safer one, she hoped. "Have you heard from Dr. Pel?"  
  
"I contacted her about a month ago. She has made progress in her research, even if she is feeling frustrated by her sponsors. She finds their need for profit to be..." Kes looked straight at ambassador Diaza "...annoying."  
  
It took some effort for Kathryn to suppress a smile. The years had fallen away, and the rapport she and Kes had shared before was as strong as ever. "I look forward to seeing her when we arrive at Vidiia."  
  
"She'll be delighted." Kes frowned, her brow knitting with worry. "Her sponsors remind me of the Caretaker--seemingly full of good intentions, but with a purpose of their own."  
  
Kes didn't continue their conversation, but Janeway wondered. The Caretaker had been arrogant--and truly had believed his Ocampa _children_ would not survive without his presence.  
  
She smiled. She almost wished she could tell the Caretaker, 'I told you so.'  
  
Not only were the Ocampa surviving, they were thriving.  
  
  
**_Somewhere in the Delta Quadrant--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57847.9_**  
  
Molan Var scratched his Phage-scarred ear in frustration. They were behind in ore production, again. But there wasn't much he could do about it; not with a quarter of his workforce in the hospital and his superiors unable (or was it unwilling, he wasn't sure which) to provide more miners. Curing the Phage had resulted in a sharp decrease in his supply of Vidiians and other 'volunteers' to work the mines. There were ways to keep miners, but as time progressed, it became harder to find new ones.  
  
"Well," he muttered, "it was a good thing while it lasted." It really had been. He had accumulated a substantial fortune during his thirty years managing various Mupano Industries mining facilities. He hoped to retire soon--before anyone, especially his superiors, became too curious how he had accumulated his wealth.  
  
He returned his attention to the report from his superiors. He didn't understand their concern with this Federation. What was it, anyway? So the Vidiian Sodality planned to get a new ally. If Molan Var, who kept a vigilant eye on the ever-shifting balance of power in this part of space, had never heard of it, the Federation couldn't be much of a threat. He believed that his superiors were too concerned about this alliance and losing their perspective. The lack of new miners was the crisis--this political development was only a possible problem.  
  
He growled softly at the sharp knock at his door. He had given explicit orders he wasn't to be disturbed for a full hour: he had ten more minutes. "Enter," he called out angrily.  
  
His aide, Waltett Wom, entered. "Sir, two of the hospital patients are missing."  
  
"Missing?" He frowned. Unauthorized departures, while uncommon, did happen. They were an inconvenience and took time away from more important things. "Organize search parties and find them." He glanced out at the barren landscape and wondered why any of the miners would even try to escape. They never lasted long on this gods-forsaken planet. He returned to his reports, but Wom hadn't left. He looked up again. "Was there something else?"  
  
Wom hesitated. "Yes, sir. One of the small transports is missing."  
  
"A transport?" Var screamed, jumping to his feet. He had only five of the small craft designed to haul light equipment over comparatively short distances--so old they were barely useful, but he wasn't likely to get any more. "Organize a planetary search and get every ship we've got up and looking for them." Wom backed away as Var marched toward the door. "Order a lockdown of all miners. I want a complete report--and the heads of those who let them escape."  
  
"Yes, sir!" Wom followed Var out the door.  
  
"And," Var said once they were outside. He sneezed several times as the constantly blowing, sulfurous wind pushed dust up his nose before dragging his forearm across his face to clean the mess. "Get me a clear link to Vidiia."  
  
"Sir, those patients will be dead in days--if they aren't already."  
  
Var shook his head, wondering how anyone could be that stupid. "Tell me, Wom--if the missing miners are discovered, what do you think will happen?"  
  
He nodded at the look of enlightenment in Wom's eyes. "I understand, sir."  
  
  
**_Voyager II--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57848.4_**  
  
Neelix shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and cleared his throat. "Uh, how much longer?"  
  
Before the transporter chief could answer, Tuvok replied. "We don't know the answer to that any more than we did when you last asked, seventy seconds ago. They will beam up when they are ready."  
  
"But I thought they were ready ages ago," he said. "Look. The flowers are already starting to wilt." He held up the bouquet of pink roses and white miniature carnations for inspection.  
  
"The flowers are fine," Dr. Zimmerman told him. "But you seem to be the one who is wilting." He added gently, "If you prefer, we can bring Kes to your quarters after she's settled in."  
  
"No!" Neelix looked up in alarm. "I want to welcome her aboard. It's just--it's taking so long. I wish they'd beam up already." He turned to the transporter chief. "Any word?"  
  
"We're on standby," the young man said.  
  
Neelix began to shift his weight again. He stopped when he actually swayed into Tuvok. The First Officer regarded him carefully. "Where is Sarexa?" Tuvok asked. "I expected her to join you."  
  
"Yes," the EMH added. "She's usually such a calming influence for you."  
  
"I'm calm." Neelix nodded and waved his hands vigorously. "I'm perfectly calm. Why do you think I'm not calm?"  
  
"The flowers," Tuvok murmured. "Be careful of the flowers."  
  
Neelix looked down to see pink petals littering the deck near his feet, and realized he had been swinging the bouquet like a club. Lowering his arms, he said, "Well, I might be just a little nervous."  
  
"There's the signal," the transporter chief said. "The Ocampan party is beaming up first."  
  
With a deep breath, Neelix drew himself erect and waited as five transporter pads activated. Time seemed to slow as the figures gradually materialized. He could immediately pick out the silhouettes of Captain Janeway and Ambassador Diaza, but he could not recognize the three Ocampa immediately .  
  
Then they were there, whole once again. Kes stood on the center pad in the front of the chamber. His heart leaped into his throat. The woman he saw was white-haired, wrinkled and unspeakably frail, and yet she was still his Kes. There was no mistaking the lively blue eyes, the elegant ears, or the classic beauty that was still evident beneath the wrinkled skin.  
  
Her eyes met his almost at once, and her smile--oh, that wonderful smile--was untouched by time. "Neelix," she said. Her voice was exactly the same as he remembered, low and melodic and warm. She stepped off the transporter and opened her arms. "It's so good to see you."  
  
He swallowed. "And you." When she hugged him tightly, he had no choice but to return the embrace. She fit as well as she ever did, but it was different. She felt fragile and insubstantial compared to his memory. Or perhaps he'd just become accustomed to something else.  
  
Forgetting everything except Kes, he touched her cheek tenderly. "You haven't changed a bit," he lied.  
  
Her smile was the same as ever, though. "Of course I have," she said. "And so have you--but only on the outside. You're still the same Neelix inside, aren't you?"  
  
How could he be so happy--and so sad--at the same time? Just seeing Kes, touching her again, was so sweet it was almost unbearable. Yet, at the same time, it filled him with renewed regrets for what might have been. "If you say so," he said quietly. "You always saw the best in me."  
  
It might have been his imagination, but he thought he saw just a hint of regret in her eyes. Then she squeezed his arms lightly and her expression changed, becoming more formal. Neelix realized the moment was over. They were back in real time, in the transporter room, and not alone. Definitely not alone...  
  
"What a pleasant surprise. I wasn't expecting a welcoming committee," Ambassador Diaza said. There was no missing the sarcasm in his voice.  
  
Kes didn't bother to look at his as she spoke. "I'm most appreciative, Ambassador. These are the three men who changed my life." She turned to the EMH. "Dr. Zimmerman. You finally have a name."  
  
"Don't I get a hug?" the EMH asked, almost shyly.  
  
"Always," she said quietly, and embraced him almost as tenderly as she had Neelix. Almost, but not quite, Neelix thought with some satisfaction. "You must tell me how it came to be."  
  
The Doctor opened his mouth, but he noted Diaza's stony gaze and Janeway's quick shake of the head and closed it. Then he said, "We'll have plenty of time later to catch up."  
  
She rolled her eyes back towards Diaza, and Neelix knew she understood. With a smile, she turned to Tuvok and raised her hand in a proper Vulcan greeting. "Tuvok, I am pleased to see you again."  
  
Returning the gesture, he said solemnly, "And I you. My wife sends her greetings."  
  
_Wife? _Neelix gulped, remembering. "Oh, my wife does, too. And these are for you." He thrust the flowers at her. The brief awkwardness passed when he saw her delight in the bouquet. "Welcome home, Kes."  
  
She buried her nose in the blooms, breathing deeply. "My favorites. Thank you."  
  
Was it possible--were those tears he saw in her eyes? His own eyes felt misty. "It's nothing. It's just a small way of saying how much we missed you."  
  
Captain Janeway stepped forward, gesturing the others to step off the transporter pad. "We need to have introductions all the way around, but let's bring the rest of the party up first."  
  
Kes dashed an unashamed hand across one eye. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry to hold things up. It's just--" she cradled the bouquet tightly "--so wonderful to be back."  
  
  
**_Odyssey--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57848.6_**  
  
Harry Kim sat down in the _big chair_ with a small smile. With Captain La Forge on _Voyager_ with the diplomatic team and Commander Lavelle off duty, he had command of the _Odyssey_ for the next six hours. He glanced up at the viewscreen. Ironic, he thought, as he studied the planet that filled the screen. The last time he'd seen Ocampa, he hadn't wanted to be there, and the Kazon had wanted _Voyager_ there even less. Surprisingly, debris that testified to the Kazon's attitude was still orbiting the system's sun. He'd figured scavengers would have carted it off long ago.  
  
"Do a long range sweep of the sector," he ordered. "And repeat every half hour." The young ensign at the tactical station affirmed the order with a bored expression. Perhaps it was unnecessary, but Harry didn't want any unexpected visitors--like the Kazon--to drop in for a visit. And truth be told, it was also an excuse to avoid the diplomatic dinner on _Voyager_. He was more than a little tired of Ambassador Diaza's constant nitpicking. Even Captain La Forge had looked like he wanted an excuse to stay away.  
  
He glanced away from the viewscreen to pick up the PADD with the previous shift's reports.  
  
"Interesting," Ensign Smith muttered.  
  
"Ensign?" Harry looked up and saw the young officer frowning.  
  
"I'm detecting...This can't be right...Sir."  
  
"Let's see. Transfer the data to my station." Harry studied the incoming data. He shivered as he recognized it. "It's Vidiian."  
  
"Vidiian, sir?" Ensign Smith asked. His eyes opened a little wider at the name. "Whatever it is, the signal is repeating, sir."  
  
"An automated beacon. See if you can clean it up. I want to know what it is before I wake up Commander Lavelle."  
  
  
**_Voyager II--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57848.6_**  
  
"I can't right now, Neelix," Sarexa said without putting down the bowl she was holding. "I'm in the middle of making trifle."  
  
"Trifle?" He frowned. "Sarexa, sweeting. It really isn't appropriate for the wife of the Talaxian Ambassador to help with the reception dinner."  
  
"But I promised Ensign Murphy a trifle. He needs cheering up."  
  
Neelix snorted. It was more likely Commander Torres who needed cheering up. He wondered what Murphy had done this time. At least the engines were still working.  
  
"He was here while you were with Commander Tuvok. He was very depressed." She turned away to put the bowl on the counter.  
  
Neelix shrugged, wondering just why his wife seemed a bit nervous. "The captain and the Ocampa delegation should be arriving for the dinner soon. We should be there to greet them. The Ocampa are very nice. You'll like them."  
  
She smiled at him--it seemed to him to be a bit forced. "You meet them, while I finish the trifle. And is it really inappropriate for me to help with the reception dinner? Neelix, for months I've had very little to do. I'd like to help with the dinner."  
  
"Sarexa..." Suddenly the pieces fell into place, and he hesitated. "It's Kes, isn't it?"  
  
"Of course not," she answered quickly. Too quickly.  
  
He watched Sarexa as she went back to work. Tom had warned him that wives sometimes became nervous around their husbands' ex-girlfriends. Neelix had hoped this wouldn't be true, but now he wondered. He decided to change the subject.  
  
"I'm hoping we will be able to go to Talaxia." He was pleased when Sarexa visibly relaxed at the change in subject.  
  
"I'd like to see if any of my family survived," Sarexa said with a smile.  
  
_She has such a beautiful smile_, Neelix thought.  
  
"Now go," she went on firmly. "It wouldn't do for the Talaxian Ambassador to be late for this function. I'll be along directly. Go before you have to hurry." Neelix was half-way to the lift, before he realized that Sarexa wanted to avoid meeting the Ocampa--and Kes. Diaza might frown upon a diplomat's wife avoiding her duties, but Neelix found some of the pomp surrounding their circumstances too much--and he knew Sarexa was even more uncomfortable with it. Besides, the Andorian treated them coldly--and had only grudgingly discussed the most trivial details of their mission. He could hardly blame his wife for trying to avoid more of the same.  
  
  
**_Voyager II--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57848.7_**  
  
"So," Jenny Delaney asked her commanding officer quietly, "what do you think?"  
  
Geordi La Forge looked around the Captain's Dining Room on _Voyager_, taking in the details of the reception for the Ocampa delegation. "To be honest," he said, pitching his voice low enough to be certain it didn't carry, "it's like most diplomatic affairs--tastefully decorated, flawlessly catered, and completely dull. Ambassador Diaza has outdone himself."  
  
"Oh, yes, watch out for the ambassador," she said demurely. "He's prowling the room, hunting for the first sign of enjoyment. He wants to make certain it doesn't spread."  
  
Geordi was barely able to convert his laugh into a discreet cough. Although Captain Janeway was the official host of the evening, Diaza was making it clear this was _his_ function. According to Janeway, he had changed the menu, changed the music, and pared the guest list to eliminate most of the Starfleet personnel. The Federation was represented by two senior officers from _Voyager_, two from _Odyssey_, and Diaza and the two members of his staff. "I don't think he trusts us to talk to the Ocampa unsupervised," Geordi said.  
  
"Yeah." Jenny looked around. Every time one of the Ocampa tried to strike up a conversation with any of the Starfleet personnel, one of the diplomats joined them. She looked across the room just in time to see Gleb, Diaza's aide, almost trip in his hurry to horn himself into a discussion between Kes and Commander Tuvok.  
  
"You know," Jenny observed offhandedly, "if I were the suspicious type, I'd be thinking that Commander Lavelle's illness was awfully convenient. He should be here instead of me."  
  
"He really is sick, Jenny."  
  
"With all due respect, sir, he has a cold."  
  
"Yes, but he's allergic to the medication and just has to suffer through it. Ambassador Diaza would have a fit if I brought an officer who sneezed all over the delegation." That was true, but Geordi was also certain Sam found the legitimate chance to skip this reception an unexpected benefit of his illness.   
  
She smiled good-naturedly. "I suppose. And I do appreciate the chance to see _Voyager_ again. At least there will be more people at the dinner."   
  
Before Geordi could respond, Daeja Thev, ambassador Thev’s attaché, walked up to them. They had met before, but only briefly and in meetings. He was a little surprised that she had left the Ocampa delegation without diplomatic supervision.   
  
“Captain La Forge,” she said as she approached. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you how sorry I was to learn of the death of your father.”   
  
“Thank you,” Geordi said perfunctorily. The news was fresh enough that he was still processing it, and while he appreciated her intent, he was not ready to talk about it with a relative stranger.   
  
“I met him once, several years ago,” she went on, surprising him. “It was at a function much like this one: high on protocol and low on humor.” She glanced in Diaza’s direction. “He rescued me from a perfectly dreadful conversation with a Tellarite judge and then told me a joke involving a left-handed flea, a newt, and a banyan tree, which I thought was true until he got to the punchline.”  
  
The reference made Geordi smile. “That was one of his standard ‘dad’ jokes.”  
  
“He was charming,” Commander Thev said. Then something caught her eye and her antennae curled inward. "I wonder what that's about?"  
  
Geordi turned and saw that a young yeoman had come into the room, conspicuous for her lack of a serving tray. She paused just long enough to locate Captain Janeway, but it was sufficient to capture Ambassador Diaza's attention. The Andorian frowned, his antennae curling deeply.  
  
Captain Janeway stepped aside from Vertris to listen to the yeoman's message. She glanced toward Geordi once, and then nodded. Looking relieved, the yeoman hurried out. Janeway immediately approached Geordi.  
  
"Harry Kim just called the Bridge," she said. "I know you left orders not to disturb you during the reception, but he says he needs to speak with you immediately."  
  
Geordi was surprised but didn't show it. Kim wouldn't interrupt him here unless it was urgent, but he couldn't imagine a crisis that didn't affect _Voyager_, too. He nodded. "Excuse me. I'll just step out."  
  
Janeway lowered her voice. "You aren't planning to abandon me, are you?"  
  
He realized she was probably more weary of Diaza than he was, not to mention the Romulan observer, Prolak, who was watching the function like a hawk searching for a field mouse--and finding ways to evade dull diplomatic functions was a time-honored tradition for captains. "It's not an escape plan," he assured her. _At least_, he thought as he left the room, _not yet._  
  
Once in the corridor, he tapped his combadge. "La Forge to _Odyssey_."  
  
_''Kim here. Sorry to interrupt, Captain, but Commander Lavelle thought we should let you know--we're picking up an automated distress signal. It's from a Vidiian ship.''_  
  
"Really?" The thought of leaving the reception to investigate was appealing. But then reality returned. "Pass it along to the Sodality, Commander."  
  
_''Already done, Captain. They don't have a record of a ship anywhere in the area, and they can't get a vessel there in less than four days.''_  
  
Something about Kim's inflection created the impression that he wasn't finished. "Go on."  
  
_''I offered our assistance, Captain. They were very grateful.''_  
  
So, he was going to abandon Janeway to the diplomatic wolves after all. Kim had acted correctly, of course--it was a Starfleet principle to lend aid when needed. The fact that it freed him from this tedious dinner was simply a coincidence. "Very well, Commander. We'll be returning shortly."  
  
_''Sir, may I make a suggestion? It could be useful to have Dr. Zimmerman--Voyager's CMO--with us. He knows more about Vidiian physiology than anyone.''_  
  
"Good idea. I'll ask Captain Janeway. La Forge out."  
  
He planned to take Janeway aside and quietly explain, but as soon as he entered the room he realized that would be difficult. Instead of small groups of people scattered about, everyone had clumped together in one circle. "Ah, Captain La Forge," Diaza said coolly. "How good of you to rejoin us. I assume you've dealt with your little problem?"  
  
"Not entirely," he said politely, but with enough firmness for Diaza to understand he should bow out--he hoped. "Captain Janeway, may I speak to you for a moment?"  
  
Diaza fixed a frozen party smile on his face. "Surely, Captain La Forge, if there is a problem we all are entitled to know."  
  
The desire to tell the Andorian to stick it up his antennae was strong, but Geordi managed to quell it. Even so, it wasn't easy to conceal his irritation with the man. He cast an inquiring look to Janeway; as fleet commander, it was her call. When she nodded once in response, he said, "We've picked up a distress signal from a Vidiian ship. The Sodality doesn't have anyone available to investigate, so we volunteered."  
  
Everyone looked dumbfounded for a moment, frozen by surprise into silence. All the intelligence reports indicated little activity of any kind in the region, by the Vidiians or anyone else. Ambassador Diaza recovered first, leaning forward slightly.  
  
"Excellent," Councilor Vertris said quickly, before Diaza could speak. "Such a positive gesture can only strengthen our alliance. Don't you agree, Ambassador?"  
  
"Of course," Diaza said smoothly. "It would certainly be a gesture of good faith. Naturally, I would like to speak with the Vidiians before you leave and determine whether there are any complicating factors we should be aware of, and which of my staff should accompany--"  
  
"Unfortunately, Ambassador," Geordi cut him off, "we've already committed to leaving as soon as possible. In fact, Lt. Commander Delaney and I need to return to _Odyssey_ now. Captain Janeway, I'd like to borrow your CMO for this mission, since he's got hands-on experience with Vidiian physiology."  
  
Janeway's expression was somewhat bemused; Geordi guessed she was torn between annoyance with him for leaving her to cope with Diaza alone and amusement at how deftly he had side-stepped the Ambassador's attempt to micromanage this situation, too. Add to that, she was probably worried about unexplained Vidiian activity in the sector. "Yes, that makes sense. He'll beam over as soon as he's assembled his gear."  
  
Diaza looked like he was going to try to speak again, so she continued quickly. "We'll be leaving for Vidiia in the morning, so plan on meeting us on the way there. In the meantime, keep me informed on the situation, Captain. Hourly reports. If there's trouble brewing, I want to know as soon as possible."  
  
  
  
  



	4. Act 3

  
  
**ACT THREE**  
  
**_Odyssey--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57848.9_**  
  
Harry Kim stared at his console and was tempted to slam his fist against it in sheer frustration. The data from the Vidiian ship had changed again, for the third time in twenty minutes. "There is something very weird about that ship," he said.  
  
"Whad do you mean?" Sam Lavelle asked from the First Officer's seat. Dr. Ogawa had been able to treat some of his symptoms, so that he was only stuffed up and hoarse. He still looked miserable, though.  
  
"The data from the long range scanner just changed again," Harry replied. "It's as if the source of the distress signal is morphing from duranium into--" he checked again before finishing "--aluminum."  
  
Lavelle shook his head. "The scanner's malfunctioning."  
  
"No, it's not." Harry was confident of this. "I ran a level 1 diagnostic three hours ago. It's not the scanner, it's the ship."  
  
"Aluminum." Captain La Forge sounded thoughtful. "There's not a big difference between the molecular structure of aluminum and duranium. Just a few extra atoms here and there."  
  
"But the Vidiians don't possess morphing capabilities," Lavelle replied, then added, "Do they?"  
  
"They didn't ten years ago," Harry said, "Or at least, we never encountered it."  
  
"We're in visual range," Griz Chafyn announced.  
  
"Let's see it," La Forge said. The small ship was a short-range transport, just large enough for a pilot and one passenger, with a generous cargo hold. It looked lifeless as it drifted in space.  
  
Harry felt a shiver on his spine. "It's Vidiian, all right. I recognize it."  
  
"Life signs?" La Forge asked.  
  
Harry tried to stabilize the data without success. "I'm reading one very faint sign--Vidiian--but I'm not sure it's reliable. The sensor frequencies almost seem to be bouncing off the ship."  
  
"Keep trying. Hail them, Griz." La Forge stood, studying the image. "It's so small, we'll have to bring it on board to examine it.  
  
"No response to our hail, sir."  
  
The captain shook his head, a sign he was troubled. "Can you beam that life sign to Sickbay, Harry?"  
  
"No, sir." He was heard frustration creep into his voice and tried to quell it. "I don't understand this at all."  
  
La Forge looked at the screen speculatively for several seconds. "This is a long shot," he finally said, "but set the sensors to scan for invidium."  
  
Harry's eyebrows shot up, but he immediately recalibrated the sensors. "Scanning now."  
  
"Invidium?" Lavelle repeated. "Whad is it?"  
  
"A very uncommon material with nucleosynthetic propensities," Harry answered. "It was used in medical containment fields."  
  
La Forge turned to him in surprise. "That's right. How do you happen to know that? Invidium hasn't been used in quantity for over a century."  
  
Harry grinned. "My freshman year at the Academy, my instructor in Advanced Quantum Physics asked me to analyze a paper on invidium and nucleosynthesis that a certain starship engineer had just published in Starfleet's Journal of Scientific Oddities."  
  
When La Forge laughed, Lavelle said, "You, sir?"  
  
"Yes, it was me. We'd had a big problem with a little bit of invidium on the Enterprise. It was before you were on board, Sam." He turned back to Harry. "The J-SO is only required reading for engineering majors. How is it you had to read it?  
  
"I hadn't declared a major yet, and Commodore Dhira thought it was sufficiently...odd to interest me." He felt himself smiling as the data organized itself in front of him. "You got it, Captain. There's a concentration of invidium in both passenger compartments."  
  
"Damn." La Forge shook his head. "We can't take the chance of bringing that ship on board. Assemble an away team, Mr. Kim. No more than three of you."  
  
Lavelle started to rise, but La Forge shook his head. "Not you, Sam. Alyssa would have _my_ head if I let you go EVA with a head like that. Harry, I want you to take a shuttle over to that ship and then go EVA in full hazmat suits. Pull whoever's in there out and bring them back. Sam, you need to set up a level 10 containment field in the shuttle bay. Plan on full decontamination of everything that gets within 100 meters of that ship."  
  
"Is invidium really thad dangerous?" Lavelle asked.  
  
"And then some," La Forge said.  
  
  
**_Voyager II--November 6, 2381, Stardate 57848.9_**  
  
Whenever Neelix couldn't find his wife, he knew where to look without consulting the ship's computer. When she was troubled or angry or worried, Sarexa cooked. He knew she would be in the kitchen.  
  
And yes, as soon as he entered the galley, he saw her. _Voyager's_ official cook was nowhere in sight, but Sarexa stood at a sideboard, kneading a large mound of dough. Pale pink flour dusted her cheeks and nose, like make-up of the completely wrong hue for Talaxian coloring. He cleared his throat. "_Stofel _bread, sweeting?"  
  
She didn't look up as she brought one solid fist down on the dough. "Yes. Captain Janeway likes it. The trifle I made for Lieutenant Murphy is in the fridge. He'll be by when he finishes his shift. And Miral wanted some chocolate chip cookies. They're cooling on the counter."  
  
He watched her pummel the unoffending lump for several seconds. _This is not an ordinary worry,_ he thought_. It's not like her, not at all. She's usually so serene. Something's really getting to her._ "Sweeting?" he ventured. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No." She grabbed the dough, lifted it up, turned it over and slammed it against the sideboard. "What could be wrong?"  
  
"I don't know," he said honestly. "But you seem to be a bit... stimulated."  
  
She turned and glared at him, a glare worthy of Janeway herself. "Stimulated?"  
  
He couldn't help himself; he smiled. "You're so cute when you're angry." As the glare dropped in temperature, he realized what he had said. "Uh--are you angry about something?"  
  
She took a deep breath, and exhaled through her nose. Her fist went deep into the bread again. "What could I possibly be angry about?"  
  
Oh, no. He'd been married long enough to steer clear of those waters. "Well, since you're all right, I'll just--"  
  
"Your old girlfriend, the love of your life, is on board, and you won't even mention her name, and you wonder what's wrong?" Sarexa hit the dough so hard it closed around her fist, and she had to peel it off.  
  
He closed his eyes, completely at a loss. Part of him had realized that Sarexa had been deliberately avoiding Kes, but he'd done his best to ignore it. She was always better than he at rolling with life's punches, as Chakotay phrased it. Now he couldn't avoid the problem any longer, but he had absolutely no idea how to fix it. "That's it?" he asked. "You're upset about Kes?"  
  
"Kes. So her name is Kes." Her tone became sarcastic. "I wouldn't have known it from talking to you."  
  
"Yes, my name is Kes."  
  
Neelix froze at the all too well-remembered voice. Turning slowly, he saw she stood just inside the doorway with Tom Paris.  
  
For a moment--just a moment--he imagined what it would be like if she had stayed and shared her entire life with him. But reality reasserted itself almost immediately. She had left him, and now his wife was standing less than two meters away, her dough-caked hands frozen in mid-air, and a look of shock on her flour-dusted face.  
  
_The appropriate human expression,_ he thought wildly, _is surely 'damn.' What am I supposed to do now?_  
  
Kes stepped back, and turned her gaze to Sarexa. "This must be your wife." Her smile suddenly turned shy. "I'm so glad to meet you."  
  
Sarexa stood frozen for a moment, then dropped her eyes. Instead of being angry, she was suddenly insecure. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you, too."  
  
Then there was an awkward silence, and Neelix looked to Tom with a silent appeal for help. Tom cleared his throat nervously, but said nothing.  
  
It was Kes who stepped into the void. "I had hoped Neelix found someone lovely and understanding. I'm so happy to see I was right."  
  
Neelix watched the tension drain from Sarexa's face with almost comic quickness. Whether she had known it or not, Kes had hit upon the exact right thing to say. After months of marriage, he knew Sarexa was still deeply insecure about her appearance, scarred from the forced removal of Borg implants. _Leave it to Kes,_ Neelix thought gratefully, _to see past the surface._  
  
"Everyone told me you were beautiful," Sarexa said, sounding a little amazed, "but you really are."  
  
Something in Neelix's heart broke at that. He had never dreamed that all his talk of Kes had wounded Sarexa. It was true, Kes would always hold a special place in his heart. But he had taken Sarexa as his chosen wife, and would never intentionally hurt her.  
  
"It's just because I left the ship," Kes said, and her smile was conspiratorial, as if sharing a secret with a trusted friend. "Memory does wonders for one's best traits." Then she pointed to the well-kneaded dough. "Are you making _stofel_ bread? I always loved it, and I haven't had it in years."  
  
Sarexa nodded. "Captain Janeway likes it, too."  
  
"She always had good taste." Kes moved away from Neelix to stand next to Sarexa. "May I help? It looks like you're ready to separate the dough."  
  
'You're right." Sarexa shot Neelix a look that could clearly be interpreted as 'why didn't you see that?' and then smiled at Kes. "Would you like to help me?"  
  
Kes's smile could have lit a solar system. "Oh, yes I would." She turned back to Tom. "Thanks for the tour, Tom, but I'll be fine here. Why don't the two of you go...do something."  
  
"But--" Neelix began.  
  
Tom clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Right. You girls have a good time."  
  
"We will," Kes promised.  
  
"Of course," Sarexa said. Then she looked at Kes. "So tell me, did he always snore?"  
  
Tom had to almost pull Neelix out of the galley. "I can't leave," Neelix gasped. "Did you hear? They're going to talk about _me_."  
  
"Damn straight," Tom said. He was almost, but not quite, smiling. "You can't get away from it. It's every man's nightmare, Neelix--the old girlfriend and the wife comparing notes. If you try to stop it now, it will only be worse for you."  
  
Neelix started to protest, but then realized Tom was right. If he tried to interfere now, he would never hear the end of it. "This is terrible," he said. "Between the two of them, they know _everything _about me. I think I'm in big, big trouble." He shook his head. "I wish we'd stayed on Earth."  
  
Tom smiled sadly. "I'm with you, pal. Truth is, I'm beginning to be sorry I dragged B'Elanna and Miral back to the Delta Quadrant. But we're stuck with the cards we were dealt." He slapped Neelix on the back. "Look, let's go down to the holodeck and play a round of pool. Then we'll both go home with a bouquet of flowers and tell our wives how lucky we are that they tolerate us."  
  
Neelix considered. "Sounds like a plan," he finally said.  
  
  
**_Odyssey shuttle--November 7, 2381, Stardate 57851.7_**  
  
Harry turned to Jenny Delaney as she tightened the helmet clamp on her EVA suit. "Are you ready?"  
  
''Whenever you are'' She sounded tense, and he knew why. Not only was this her first EVA assignment on _Odyssey_, it was her first outside of training. Astrometric personnel rarely had to work in space. But she had mentioned to Harry she wanted to expand her experience, so he tapped her for this.  
  
"Stand by, then." He set the shuttle's airlock behind them. "Ready to open the hatch, Korbut."  
  
The ship's pilot, Tatya Korbut, had volunteered to join them. She would remain on the shuttle while Harry and Jenny found a way to board the Vidiian ship. ''Hatch open'' she responded at once. ''Be careful.''  
  
"Don't worry about that," Harry said. "Keep on open com." With a nod at Jenny, he lifted the narrow door and propelled himself into space.  
  
It required nearly two minutes to cover the twenty meters between the shuttle and the Vidiian ship, and with every second, Harry had a better look at the craft. It looked old and well-used, its hull dimpled with dents of all sizes and its paint scratched and chipped. Some panels were a slightly different color, as if patched in without concern about appearance.  
  
'_'Look'' _Jenny said to him over the com.  
  
She had turned her wristlight on the stern of the ship's fuselage. The spider-like symbol of gold, burgundy, and gray was faded, but unmistakably that of the Vidiian Sodality. "I guess that confirms it," he said. He hadn't expected anything different, but the sight only made him feel more apprehensive. The spidery "legs" of the symbol reminded him forcibly of the pronged instrument the Vidiians had used to harvest organs from living victims.  
  
Grimly, he turned his attention back to the cockpit. Using his own palm light, he tried to see inside, but the viewport was milky and opaque.  
  
_''Is it supposed to be like that?''_ Jenny asked.  
  
_"I don't think so."_ He pulled out his tricorder and scanned it. _"My guess is the invidium has changed it somehow."_  
  
He reached the ship and stretched out a hand to steady himself against the hull. To his surprise, his hand left an imprint in the metal. _"Not aluminum,"_ he muttered. _"Aluminum foil."_  
  
''How could that happen?''  
  
_"Invidium. It's nasty stuff--changes things at the molecular level. It almost destroyed the Enterprise fifteen years ago."_ He returned the tricorder to its pocket as he spoke. _"At least it will be easy to open the cockpit. Remember, once we break the seal, we'll have about thirty seconds to get the breathers on them. And be ready to cope with the effects of the pressure change."_  
  
_''If they're still alive.''_  
  
_"Right. Once the breathers are on, haul your man out and head back to the shuttle as quickly as you can." _He positioned himself at the nose of the cockpit while she took station near the approximate position of the gunnery officer. _"Ready? On three. One, two, three--pull."_  
  
Moving in unison, they forced their hands through the foil-thin hull and ripped upwards. The entire cockpit peeled away in one piece, which they sent hurtling away. The exposed compartment showed two men--unconscious or dead--sitting back to back, their faces covered by oxygen masks.  
  
Harry removed the portable breather from his utility belt and held it in his left hand. With his right, he pulled the useless mask from the pilot.  
  
Half his face went with it.  
  
Swallowing a surge of bile, Harry froze for a moment. At first, the exposed muscle and tendon captured his attention but then he realized something else. The other side of the face, the undamaged side, was oddly collapsed and still seeping with a thick, viscous liquid.  
  
_''Oh, my God.''_  
  
The horror in Jenny's voice matched his own, but it also snapped him back to action. _"I know," _he said_. "Just do it, Jenny."_  
  
_''Kim?''_ Korbut called. _''What is it?''_  
  
_"Stand by,_" he replied as he fastened the breather over the what was left of the mouth and nose of the Vidiian. Then he freed him from the safety restraint and pulled the body free of the ship, placing him across his shoulders.  
  
Set, he checked on Jenny and saw that she, too, was ready to return. _"Go,"_ he said.  
  
It seemed to take forever to get back to the shuttle, certainly longer than the trip over. As soon as they reached it, he motioned for Jenny to go first. He followed her, dropping his burden down without much gentleness.  
  
Jenny had already pulled her helmet off and stood staring at the two bodies on the deck. Her normally pale complexion had a greenish tinge. "Are they dead?"  
  
He removed his helmet and gloves and knelt beside the Vidiian he had pulled from the pilot's seat. There was no carotid pulse. "I think so."  
  
_"Commander Kim."_ Korbut sounded annoyed. _"What's going on?_"  
  
"Set up a containment field around the interior hatch and get us back to the ship," Harry said. "And tell Dr. Zimmerman these men died from the Phage."  
  
_"The Phage? I thought the Vidiians cured that."_  
  
"Yeah." Harry looked up and met Jenny's eyes. "That's what they said."  
  
  



	5. Act 4

**ACT FOUR**  
  
**_Voyager II-- November 7, 2381, Stardate 57852.9_**  
  
Captain Janeway tapped her index finger on the desktop, staring at the monitor. The blank screen was beginning to irritate her.  
  
"The call is not due for another thirty-seven seconds," Tuvok reminded her. "Captain La Forge has been punctual in his previous reports. I'm certain he will be on time."  
  
She stopped tapping and smiled ruefully. "You're right, of course. But his last message was very," she paused, searching for the right word, "unsatisfactory."  
  
_Unsatisfactory_, she repeated to herself. _How about 'incomplete.' Just enough information to let me worry for the past hour._ _We're less than 72 hours from Vidiia._  
  
Seated on the other side of the desk, Tuvok nodded. "True. However--"  
  
The monitor sprang to life, with a text message announcing an incoming call from _Odyssey_. Kathryn quickly accepted it and at once, the image of Geordi La Forge and the Doctor appeared. The troubled expression on the Doctor's face told her the news wasn't good. "Captain, Doctor," she said. "What can you tell me?"  
  
_"As you know, we located the source of the distress signal,"_ La Forge said. _"It turned out to be a two-man ship. We identified it as a light transport. The markings are Vidiian."_  
  
"Passengers?" she asked.  
  
_"We recovered two bodies." _La Forge looked to Zimmerman, who picked up the response.  
  
_"Two Vidiian males,"_ the Doctor continued_. "Captain, they died only a few hours before we arrived on the scene--from the Phage."_  
  
She felt herself tense. "Are you certain?"  
  
The Doctor nodded. _"There's no doubt. Apart from the genetic damage, which is the classic marker for the Phage, I was able to isolate a strand of viral RNA that was still active. Fortunately, it still appears to present no risk to humans or other Alpha Quadrant species. I'm sending a data packet with this transmission."_  
  
Kathryn inhaled through her teeth. "So much for the Vidiians' claim of a complete cure."  
  
_"There's something else,"_ La Forge said. _"Both bodies were heavily contaminated with invidium."_  
  
Tuvok raised one brow. "How unusual. Do you have any indication of the source of the exposure?"  
  
_"I'm guessing they were exposed to some kind of medical containment field,"_ La Forge said. _"That was the most common use for invidium in the Alpha Quadrant a century ago."_  
  
_"It makes sense,"_ Zimmerman added. "_They might have been in an isolation ward to prevent the disease from spreading."_  
  
"But where?" Kathryn asked. "Where did they come from? Is the Phage still present on Vidiia?"  
  
_"I doubt it,"_ the Doctor said_. "Denara Pel wouldn't lie about that. Curing the Phage was her life's dream."_  
  
"Perhaps," Tuvok speculated, "they came from a colony, possibly one that hasn't had the same access to the cure or the same degree of success."  
  
"Perhaps." Kathryn leaned back. "Have you ever heard of Molokai?"  
  
Her first officer blinked. "Are you referring to one of the Hawaiian islands on Earth?"  
  
_"Ah,"_ La Forge said. _"I see."_  
  
"Molokai was the home of a leper colony," she explained. "Leprosy was a highly contagious and little understood disease. It caused so much fear in the general population that, for far too many years, anyone diagnosed with it was banished to an isolated encampment."  
  
_"You think these men escaped from a...a leper colony for Phage victims?"_ Zimmerman asked.  
  
"It's a possibility," she said. "I don't know what to think yet. What have you learned from the ship's records?"  
  
_"We haven't been able to access them yet. The invidium had already begun to affect the ship, and we haven't been able to establish any kind of interface." _He looked unhappy._ "The only way we're going to get anything is to send someone back out and try a manual upload. The ship is in such bad shape that I'm not sure it's worth the risk of contamination to Odyssey."_  
  
"I understand the risk, but it's one you have to take." Kathryn spoke firmly. "We must know everything we can about the situation. If the Sodality has been lying about the Phage, then their entire agenda is suspect. They could be proposing a colony for the Ocampa that is nothing more than a source of fresh organs."  
  
La Forge nodded. _"You're right. I don't expect to get much, though. The nucleosynthesis is playing havoc with the ship's structure."_  
  
"Do the best you can. We need anything you can get."  
  
_"Understood. We'll give you an update in an hour."_  
  
The transmission ended, and Kathryn leaned back. "I had a feeling something like this would happen. It all seemed too good to be true."  
  
"What are you going to do?" Tuvok asked.  
  
"Nothing, yet. Not until La Forge tells us what he learned from that ship."  
  
"And if he can learn nothing?"  
  
"Then," she said grimly, "I'm going to have a little chat with Ambassador Diaza, and I don't think he's going to like it. Because I'm not letting any civilian set foot on Vidiia until I have some answers."  
  
"In that case, I hope Captain La Forge succeeds quickly. At our present speed, we will reach Vidiia in less than three days.” He rose. "It could be awkward if we have to change plans now."  
  
  
**_Odyssey--November 8, 2381, Stardate 57854.2_**  
  
Geordi watched the viewscreen intently. There were times when he missed the intricate detail the VISOR brought to his senses, but this wasn't one of them. Artificial eyes that duplicated normal human sight were far better for watching broadcast images. It was easier to figure out what was important to see, and what wasn't.  
  
Just now it was important to see his Chief Engineer, Lt. James, as he tried to get any information from the computer of the derelict fighter. The young man moved clumsily in the EVA suit and breathed heavily over the open comm link.  
  
"How's it going, Homer?" Geordi asked.  
  
"Miserably," James replied. "The main computer core has mutated into something like chocolate pudding. That invidium is strong stuff."  
  
Sam Lavelle leaned forward. "What aboud the secondary consoles?"  
  
"I thought I might be able to get something from the navigation assembly, but it collapsed when I tried to interface the tricorder." He paused. "There's nothing left, sir."  
  
Geordi shook his head. "Then get out of there. No sense prolonging your exposure."  
  
"Make sure you stay in the hazmat area once you're in the shuddle," Lavelle added in his cold-afflicted voice.  
  
James snorted. "You don't have to tell me that, Commander. I've seen what this stuff does. I don't want it anywhere near my engines."  
  
_A true engineer,_ Geordi thought. He watched the screen as James pushed away and began to drift back to the shuttle, waiting some fifty meters away. They had rigged a special hazardous material containment area to protect the shuttle from any stray invidium that might cling to James. When he returned, the engineer, his EVA suit, the shuttle, and its pilot would be put through the most rigorous decontamination process Geordi and Ogawa could devise. The prospect of even one molecule of invidium loose on his ship made Geordi's head hurt.  
  
"Captain," Griz Chafyn said, sounding surprised, "there's a ship approaching at high speed. It seems to be heading straight for us."  
  
"Hail them."  
  
The incoming ship dropped out of warp and became visible on the viewscreen, barely 5000 meters away. It continued at full impulse and passed above _Odyssey_.  
  
"Shields up," Lavelle said.  
  
"No response to our hail," Griz said. "Captain, I think--I think they're powering weapons."  
  
"Homer! Use suit thrusters and get into the shuttle, now." The young man complied with Geordi's order, but he was still a good thirty meters from the shuttle.  
  
"Intruder is turning," Chafyn said.  
  
The unidentified ship streaked across the viewscreen. As it flew over the derelict, a phaser-like beam lashed out and made a direct hit. The derelict flew apart, some of its pieces vaporized and others careening through space. The attacker wheeled, and disappeared as it went into warp drive.  
  
The shock of the explosion caught up with Lt. James almost immediately, and slammed him through the hatch of the shuttle. Bits of debris followed him as he disappeared into the shadows "Homer? Are you all right?"  
  
His voice was breathy and thin. "Been better, sir. What was that?"  
  
"Whatever it was, it's gone," Griz said flatly.  
  
"Never mind that," Geordi said. "Just take care of yourself. Ensign Sosa," he addressed the shuttle pilot, "you'll have to help him inside. Take a medikit and stay in the hazmat area with him. We'll tractor you aboard."  
  
"Whad was that all about?" Lavelle asked.  
  
Geordi looked at the debris field scattering itself in all directions. "I'd say someone didn't want to take any chances. Whatever that ship could tell us, someone didn't want us to know."  
  
  
**_Pel Clinic, Vidalia, Vidiia--November 8, 2381, Stardate 57854.7_**  
  
It was late, even by Denara's standards, but she didn't expect to go home any time soon. The amount of paperwork to be completed before she handed the clinic over to Krazel Lem was staggering, and she thanked the gods again for President Dop’s staff. They had been invaluable in getting the right paperwork to the right people. It had taken Denara three months to train Krazel on the documentation needed to satisfy the research grant from Mupano Industries. She’d spent the past four months reviewing the records of her patients, making certain nothing important was left out of the record that other physicians would rely on when they assumed treatment responsibility. And she’d found a lot of her time taken up learning about her new position, talking to _Voyager_ and her captain when she could--although she did try to avoid the official Federation ambassador. She hoped she never became like that.

She had moved into her new living quarters just over a month ago. She’d tried to avoid doing that--but apparently government officials, especially Vidiia’s new ambassador to the Federation, don’t live in shelters. Since the fire had wiped out everything she owned, at least there was nothing to store and precious little to pack--but she did have to shop. What sort of clothes did an ambassador wear, anyway? At least her research notes were now organized, copied and downloaded so she could bring them with her. She’d had months to prepare, but she still thought it was impossible: there was no conceivable way she could act like an ambassador by the day after tomorrow.  
  
_Not if your mind keeps wandering,_ she chastised herself, when she realized she hadn't actually read the last page of the chart in front of her. She forced herself to start over, concentrating on every word. This was one of her favorite patients, a sweet elderly woman with a host of medical problems. She dictated an additional note at the end. "This patient is particularly frightened of invasive procedures and will need extra reassurance for any surgical procedure, even one as trivial as dermal regeneration for a laceration."  
  
"Sounds like someone you know well," a familiar voice said. She looked up in surprise and saw President Chimeral Dop leaning against the doorframe. There was no mistaking the tall, slender frame and thick white hair.  
  
She switched the dictation function to off. "Mr. President. I wasn't expecting--I mean, no one told me--"  
  
"Please relax, Dr. Pel," he said, coming into the office and settling in the chair near her desk. "This isn't an official visit. The media must be informed of official visits, you know."  
  
"Yes," she said faintly. "I know."  
  
"I've been trying to reach you at one of the refugee centers, and when that proved unsuccessful, someone suggested you might be staying here." He looked around, taking in the Spartan furnishings and walls in need of paint. "Do you often work this late?"  
  
"There's so much to do," she said defensively. _"Voyager_ will be here tomorrow night."  
  
His lips turned upward so slightly that she wasn't sure whether or not to call it a smile. "And I've turned your life upside down. There isn't enough time to get ready. You're unprepared."  
  
For a moment, she thought he was laughing at her. Then she realized there was no humor in his expression, just a gentle understanding. She also realized there were no bodyguards in sight, and some of the tension left her shoulders and neck. "Well, yes. Exactly."  
  
"I remember." This time, he did smile. The resemblance to her long-dead great-uncle was astonishing. "Do you know how I got into politics?"  
  
Feeling a little ashamed, she shook her head. She had never been much interested in anything as sordid as politics; since childhood, she had been focused on science. Science, and helping people.  
  
"I was a professor at The City University of Vidalia. Not one of our larger institutions of learning, but perhaps more intense because of that. I taught history. Tenured, head of the department, busy with my classes and my research--and quite happy." He shook his head. "It was a sweet time. And then, one day, a stranger walked into my office. I recognized him immediately, of course."  
  
"Who was it?" she asked, pulled into his story.  
  
"Santaro Fen." He spoke the name with awe, as befitted the most beloved President in the history of Vidiia. "Of course, he was quite old then. And quite ill. Actually, he was dying, but I didn't know that then. I just knew one of my very few heroes had come to see me."  
  
She didn't know what to say, so she waited for him to continue. He did, almost immediately. "He took a seat and began to ask me questions. I don't remember them specifically, but he was trying to understand my beliefs about our current policies then. Whether I supported the organ procurement program--that was the official name, you know--and whether I thought we were losing too much of ourselves as a people. Finally he stood up and handed me a piece of paper. 'I'm appointing you to my cabinet,' he said. 'Vidiia needs men like you.'  
  
"I was nonplussed. 'Surely not,' I protested. 'Vidiia needs scientists and physicians who can cure us.' But he just smiled at me. He had a very potent smile, you know. It grabbed your heart and refused to let go. 'The scientists can cure us,' he said. 'But we need men like you to remember why we should be cured in the first place.'"  
  
His nostalgic expression faded. "Vidiia needs you, Denara Pel, to tell us why we deserved to survive."  
  
Shaken, she swallowed. "Surely not," she said, and then realized she had echoed his own words.  
  
"Surely yes. We need this alliance with the Ocampa and the Federation. The new colony can be a refuge for our displaced citizens, especially those who lost everything in the Horspant and Meyel fire. No, more than that: We need to prove that we are no longer the scavengers of the sector. We need to show that we are again--or at least, we will be--what we once were." His eyes bored into her, demanding her agreement. "You are the only one of us--the only one--who has proven her integrity to both sides. We can't do it without you."  
  
"No," she said without thinking. "I'm not that important."  
  
"Of course you are." Suddenly he looked like her uncle again. "We need this alliance, Denara. I can't tell you how desperately we need it. Once we were the center of civilization and art in this part of space. Today, we are pariahs, shunned because of the steps we took to save ourselves. Perhaps we can survive alone, but we can't even begin to recover what we once had. What we once were. We have to reach out. We have to become part of the galactic community again, or we'll be doomed."  
  
"Then not me," she said in a small voice. "I'm not a diplomat. I'm just a doctor."  
  
"They trust you." Now he was deadly serious. "And we need that. There have been some...problems."  
  
"What kind of problems?"  
  
"They've found a ship with two Vidiians on board. They were dead--from the Phage."  
  
"How?" she asked, leaning forward. "Everyone has had the chance for the cure."  
  
"Exactly. We don't know how." He studied his hands, twined together in his lap. "Perhaps they have been traveling in space all these years. Perhaps they are from one of the colonies we lost track of. We don't know. But the Federation ships found them. And found out they had organ transplants from other species."  
  
Denara wilted. "Oh, no." How would the Federation ever believe them now? They would think Denara had lied, that Vidiia had lied. The alliance was over before it ever began. And the Ocampa--oh, the Ocampa would be the ones to pay the price!  
  
"You see the problem." He stood, and placed his hands on her desk. "You must save this situation, Denara. We Vidiians need this alliance almost as much as the Ocampa do. Neither of us have much of a future without it."  
  
What else could she say? "I'll do my best, sir."  
  
"And we’ll help you. It's the least we can do. You have a lot to do in the next two days, but my staff has been complaining you haven’t been giving them enough work..." His eyes twinkled. "You’ll do fine. But could you take spare a few minutes to give me a tour of your clinic? I'd like to see what you've accomplished."  
  
Denara smiled at him. “I’d love to show you around.”  
  
  
**_Odyssey--November 9, 2381, Stardate 57855.4_**  
  
Jenny didn't understand how anyone ever got any sleep in Sickbay. Even in the middle of the ship's night, there were too many distractions. The dimmed lights were still too bright, and too many people were walking about, checking monitors and whispering quietly. It was like trying to sleep with an audience watching. It might have been different if she were actually sick, but there was nothing wrong with her. Except insomnia. Except that she was wearing an itchy blue patient gown instead of her red silk pajamas, and her hair was loose and getting tangled. Except that everything was just not the way it should be.  
  
A soft snore from the bed opposite hers in the ward reminded her that not everyone was having the same trouble. Poor Harry had spent so much time in Sickbay over the years that he must have learned to cope with the lack of privacy. Beside him, Homer James was sedated as his injuries mended.  
  
She wondered if she should ask for a sedative herself. Dr. Zimmerman and Dr. Ogawa were still in the CMO's office, working on their autopsy report. All she had to do was call out and they would give her one. Of course, at this late hour it was sure to make her groggy in the morning. But wouldn't that be preferable to lying here, worrying? Her mind absolutely refused to stop working, and it was churning up all sorts of dreck.  
  
She kept imagining the face of Pete Durst on a Vidiian body, something she hadn't seen personally but had heard described time and again. And B'Elanna Torres, divided into two beings, one Klingon and one human--that she had glimpsed, accidentally, but the image had haunted her dreams for months. And what if the Phage had mutated, and humans were susceptible to the new strain? The Doctor and Dr. Ogawa both said they didn't think that was the case, but that was the reason she and Harry were in quarantine--just in case. Well, what if she was? The Vidiians had a cure now. But apparently that cure didn't work for everyone. The image of the two dead Vidiians kept flashing in her memory. It was a terrible way to die.  
  
Suddenly she pictured herself with the Phage, her face cracked and seeping and sliding off. With a gasp, she sat up. This was ridiculous. She snapped on the overhead reading light and reached for a glass of water.  
  
The doors to Sickbay opened, and she looked up. A single person walked in, and despite the dim light she recognized Sam Lavelle immediately. He looked around uncertainly.  
  
"They're in the office," she said softly.  
  
He turned in her direction and nodded. "Danks."  
  
As he went into the office, she bit her lip to keep from smiling. The poor man was clearly suffering, but he sounded so funny it was hard not to be amused. The cure for the common cold had been around for more than fifty years, but at least ten percent of the population was allergic to it.  
  
She took a sip of water and wondered whether she should try reading for a little bit, or just ask for a sedative. Maybe a light dose would just help her relax, she thought. On the other hand, it would be almost like a surrender, letting the worry win, and that felt wrong.  
  
Before she could decide, Lavelle left the office and came over to her bedside, or more precisely, to as close to her bedside as the containment field would permit. "Can't sleep?" he asked softly.  
  
"Not a wink." She sat up straighter. "What brings you here at this hour? Has something happened?"  
  
"Only to my decongestant. Id wore off, and I couldn' breathe." He looked around. "I can nebber sleep in Sickbay, either."  
  
Impulsively she asked, "Have you found out anything else about the ship that attacked the derelict? Was it Vidiian?"  
  
"Id doesn'd match anything in our records, but the engine signature wasn'd anything we've seen from the Vidiians before." He cocked his head and studied her. "You're really worried about dis, aren't you?"  
  
She was surprised he realized that. "Yeah, well, wouldn't you be?"  
  
"Don't led your mind run away wid you. Alyssa tells me she's certain you and Kim are fine."  
  
"Then why keep us here?" she asked in frustration, then waved a hand. "Never mind. I know why. But it's not just that. The Vidiians lied to us about everyone being cured. If they lied about that, what else have they lied about?"  
  
"Maybe dey didn't lie. Maybe there's an explanation." He paused. "You really don't trust dem, do you?”  
  
"Would you trust the Founders if they told you they stopped breeding Jem'hadar, and then you discovered a functional breeding facility? No matter how reasonable their explanation was?"  
  
"I guess nod," he said slowly.  
  
"There you are."  
  
"Still, dere's really nothing to worry about," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "You should try to ged some sleep."  
  
"Yeah. So should you. Thanks for stopping by." With a nod, he turned to leave, but she called quietly, "Commander? My grandmother didn't believe in taking medication for a cold. She swore by garlic soup--said it helped more than anything a doctor could give her. Ask the replicator for the Delaney recipe."  
  
He looked dubious. "Garlic soup?"  
  
"You'll like it, I promise." She smiled. "She said it was the best part of being sick."  
  
He grinned. "It can'd make me feel any worse, dat’s for sure."  
  
She watched him as he turned and left. Then she swung the bedside monitor over and scrolled up a book. Reading was a better option than a sedative, she decided. At least she wouldn't dream.  
  
  
**_Voyager II--November 9, 2381, Stardate 57855.8_**  
  
Kathryn decided to indulge in a water shower as she got ready for Alpha Shift. It was less efficient than a sonic shower, but infinitely more refreshing. Considering that she was operating on less than three hours of sleep, she needed all the refreshing she could get.  
  
She had finished her last communication with La Forge and Odyssey at 0130, but the implications of it kept her awake quite a while after that. There was no doubt the Vidiians were hiding something. She didn't know what it was yet, but the possibilities were staggering.  
  
The steamy water felt wonderful, and by the time she stepped out she was ready to face the day. As she rubbed her hair with a towel, there was a quick knock at the door and Chakotay came in, wearing a robe and slippers. That was unusual for him in the morning--he typically dispensed with clothing altogether until he was showered and dressed. Combined with the look on his face, she knew something was up.  
  
"We have company," he said. "Ambassador Diaza. He said he had a message that you wanted to meet with him first thing in the morning."  
  
"He's here?" She shook her head in irritation, sending droplets of water on Chakotay's robe. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Since I sent the message at 0200, he's probably guessed he won't like what I have to say. He's trying to catch me off balance."  
  
Chakotay's eyes swept over her appreciatively. "Well, you can probably turn the tables if you greet him like that."  
  
She laughed, but then her eyes lit. "You know, that's a good idea."  
  
"Kathryn?"  
  
"Not exactly like this," she said with a smile. She twisted the towel around her head and pulled on a thick terry robe.  
  
He still looked slightly shocked. "Are you going to conduct business like that?"  
  
"Only for a moment," she assured him. "Just long enough to show that he hasn't rattled me. Or annoyed me. Or gotten under my skin."  
  
"Good that you aren't irritated," he said with a smile, and followed her back into the bedroom. "I'll just wait here."  
  
She continued into the main room and found Diaza seated at the table, sipping a cup of coffee. He looked up at her but did not stand. "Captain. My apologies. When you said first thing in the morning, I assumed you meant it."  
  
"But I did." She smiled serenely. "I see you have coffee. If you don't mind, I'm going to get some for myself."  
  
"If you would prefer to talk later--"  
  
"Not at all. This works quite well, actually." At the replicator she ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of breakfast breads, including Andorian sweetmeal cakes. "I'm only sorry I wasn't waiting for you, but I was under the impression you never conduct business before 0600."  
  
_Direct hit,_ she thought. He had made that point with her at least three times since the mission began. Other than a quick twitch in his antennae, though, he showed no reaction. "You indicated some urgency."  
  
"Yes." After she set the plate on the table, she touched a hidden control. A monitor elevated itself from the tabletop. This was not standard issue, and Diaza looked surprised. She quickly activated it. "This is the text report I received from Captain La Forge last night. I'll leave you to read it while I finish dressing. "  
  
Back in the bedroom, she found Chakotay grinning at her. "Killing him with kindness? Well done."  
  
"Are you eavesdropping?"  
  
"Only a little." He shrugged. "I think you've taken him by surprise. He didn't expect to actually do business at our dining room table."  
  
She paused on her way back to the bath. "I know you hate the table monitor, but it does come in handy."  
  
"In this case, I'll agree."  
  
It took her less than ten minutes to flash-dry her hair, put on her makeup and pull on her uniform. As she paraded past Chakotay, his eyebrows raised. "That might be a new record."  
  
She was pleased with herself, at that. Grinning, she asked, "How do I look?"  
  
"Ready for battle," he said thoughtfully. "You've got that gleam in your eye."  
  
"You know me so well." She winked at him as she returned to the main room.  
  
Diaza was still reading, so she refreshed her coffee before taking a seat across from him. He finally acknowledged her with a nod and said. "I see why you are concerned."  
  
"Concerned? Ambassador, I'm a lot more than concerned." She waited until he met her eyes before continuing. "The Vidiians lied to us. They haven't entirely cured the Phage."  
  
"True, the Phage appears to still be an issue. But we can't conclude that the Vidiians lied to us." He frowned slightly. "There are other explanations."  
  
She blinked. "You did read the entire report, didn't you? You realize the post-mortem exams on the bodies recovered by _Odyssey_ showed they not only died of active Phage, but each had multiple organs from other species."  
  
"Yes," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "but the reports also noted that while the transplants could be recent, they might also have occurred years ago. It's possible, Captain, those two unfortunates were fugitives or simply expatriates who never presented themselves for the cure."  
  
"It's also possible the cure doesn't work for everyone, and those who can't be cured are still pirating organs from other species. Which is consistent, I might add, with the attack on _Odyssey_. Someone was trying to cover their tracks."  
  
"I expect that degree of paranoia in a Starfleet analysis." His mouth thinned in annoyance. "Try to be logical, Captain. If the Vidiians were still in the organ-stealing trade, why didn't they attack _Odyssey_ as well as the transport? Why pass up such an opportunity?"  
  
"Perhaps because they knew they couldn't succeed," she snapped. "They aren't suicidal."  
  
He smiled coldly. "But according to your own reports, Vidiian ships exceed the Federation in technology. Isn't that how they were able to board _Voyager_ repeatedly?"  
  
She sucked in her breath at the low blow Diaza knew, or darn well should have known, that there were mitigating circumstances to those incidents. With an act of will, she mentally counted to ten. "I can't account for every ship in the Vidiian fleet."  
  
Diaza looked down at the report and then back to her. "What is it you expect of me? What do you want me to do?"  
  
"I want you to call a halt to these negotiations until we have some answers. We can't go forward with this colony until we know we can trust the Vidiians."  
  
His fingers trailed over the monitor as he replied. "I agree, this incident raises many questions. However, ceasing negotiations won't get us any answers and will only jeopardize the long-term future of the alliance and the Ocampan people." His eyes burrowed into her. "The only way to get answers, Captain, is to ask questions. Which is exactly what I intend to do as soon as it is a decent hour of the morning on Vidiia. President Dop will take my call, I believe."  
  
"Of course you need to ask him about it," she said impatiently. "But you can't stop there. If the Vidiians are deceiving us, he won't tell you the truth."  
  
His expression became pitying. "Just how big is this conspiracy? Is your friend Denara Pel lying to us along with the others?"  
  
For the first time, she hesitated. "I trust Dr. Pel. But every instinct I have says something isn't right about this. And I learned to trust my instincts in the Delta Quadrant. It's how we got home."  
  
Diaza said nothing, and she wondered if she was beginning to get through to him. Finally, he said, "Captain, we're in agreement on the basic point: there are issues that must be cleared up before the treaty is finalized."  
  
The relief his words brought was short lived. He went on," I, however, am willing to assume the Vidiians are acting in good faith until we have hard evidence to the contrary." Then he stood, clearly ready to leave. "Present some solid evidence, and I'll reconsider. Until then, we'll proceed--with caution, but we will proceed."  
  
He meant that to be the last word, but she stood up quickly. "The diplomatic discussions are your province, Ambassador, but the safety of Federation citizens and dependents is mine. If I have any reason to suspect the colony is a ruse--I promise you, I'll pull all three ships back to the Alpha Quadrant so fast it will make transwarp look slow."  
  
"Try it, and it will be your last action in Starfleet." His cheeks darkened to almost midnight blue, and he actually seemed to be rattled. "I'll have you court-martialed and discharged in disgrace."  
  
She smiled, almost amused by his threat. _He must really want to be the Governor,_ she thought. The prospect of thwarting the colony was the only thing that punctured his composure. She smiled. "If it comes to that, you're welcome to try. In the meantime, let's get to the bottom of this. Why don't you join me in my conference room at 1030 hours. We can call President Dop together. You might consider asking Kes or one of the other Ocampa to come, also. They should hear what he has to say."  
  
His jaw muscles clenched briefly, and she realized she had annoyed him again. He had clearly understood her unstated position--she would not permit him to contact Dop without her. Then his color faded to its normal light blue, and he bowed slightly. "Very well, Captain. We shall contact the President together. But be careful you don't overstep your bounds."  
  
"I understand your point," she said. Then her voice turned cold. "You understand this--this is _my_ ship, and you do not dictate my bounds while we are on it."  
  
He turned and left without another word.  
  
Kathryn muttered an expletive, wishing all the so-called 'official' diplomatic personnel on board to perdition. Diaza always managed to get under her skin, and even though the Romulan observer Prolak had kept a low profile lately, he was still a major annoyance to deal with. "Why can't more ambassadors be like Neelix?"  
  
  
**_Voyager II--November 9, 2381, Stardate 57856.8_**  
  
Kathryn Janeway strode across the Bridge from her ready room, not realizing her hands were balled into fists as she walked. "What's our ETA to Vidiia?" she asked Paris.  
  
"About thirty-six hours at present speed," he responded promptly. And without any attitude. That was good--she wasn't in the mood for attitude.  
  
"Then slow us down," she said as she took her seat. "Warp 4 will be more than sufficient."  
  
"Warp 4, aye."  
  
In the First Officer's chair, Tuvok leaned closer and asked quietly, "I gather you are not satisfied with President Dop's explanation."  
  
Her jaw tightened. "You gather correctly." The Vidiian leader had seemed genuinely shocked and puzzled by the description of the two dead Vidiians, the mysterious attack, and the invidium. He promised to investigate and have some answers by the time _Voyager_ arrived. After the conversation, she and Diaza were still at loggerheads, but she could cope with that. The thing that bothered her was that Kes and the other Ocampa wanted to proceed in spite of what _Odyssey_ had uncovered.  
  
"We don't have a choice," Kes had told her. "Even if the Vidiians have an ulterior motive for allowing us to colonize, it doesn't matter. We have a better chance of survival with them than on Ocampa."  
  
It was hard to argue with that. In their brief time on Ocampa, Kathryn had seen enough to know that the people were doomed to extinction if they stayed on that barren world. She couldn't stop them, or even blame them for putting themselves at risk.  
  
The Federation colonists, on the other hand, were a different story. Unless the Sodality could provide some darn good answers, she wasn't about to let a single Federation citizen (or almost Federation citizen) debark from _Pioneer_, and she had already sent orders to that effect to Captain Merves. Diaza could scream about it until his face turned yellow and his antennae fell off. She was not relenting.  
  
She suddenly realized the Bridge was unusually quiet. The normal buzz of private conversations, punctuated by a bit of banter (usually from Paris) was entirely missing. The crew probably sensed she was in a rotten mood. Just as well. She didn't want to be jollied up; she wanted to work up a good case of mad to use in her next confrontation with the good ambassador.  
  
"Three ships are approaching at warp 5." The baritone voice of Lt. Ishtak at Security cut into her thoughts.  
  
"Vidiian?" she asked.  
  
"No." He scowled at his console. "We don't have this configuration in our database." Then his voice dropped to a bass rumble, which she was learning indicated trouble. "They are powering weapons."  
  
"Shields up," Tuvok said immediately.  
  
"Hail them," Janeway said at almost the same moment.  
  
Ishtak was the first to respond. "They are targeting _Voyager_."  
  
Janeway uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. "Red Alert. Lt. Auraan, have they responded yet?"  
  
The Troyian Ops officer was completely focused on her console. "No, ma'am. I'm certain they're receiving our message. They're ignoring it."  
  
"Center ship is firing," Ishtak rumbled.  
  
She gripped the arms of the command chair. "Evasive maneuvers, Tom."  
  
The words were barely out of her mouth when the ship lurched to the left in a 90-degree turn. "Hold on," Paris called. He sounded almost cheerful.  
  
A streak of phaser fire passed by, missing _Voyager_ by mere meters. "Who are they?" Janeway muttered.  
  
Tuvok studied the data on his screen. "The ships' configuration is different, but the energy signature matches the ship that attacked _Odyssey_."  
  
Her head jerked as she looked at him. "Here? But why?"  
  
Before he could answer, Ishtak said, "The starboard ship is firing."  
  
"Here we go," Paris said, and Janeway felt the ship drop abruptly on its x-axis. Again, the phaser beam streaked by harmlessly.  
  
"I'm getting tired of this. Pick a ship, Mr. Ishtak, and target the weapons array." Janeway punched the controls on her chair's arm console; then let out a small hiss of breath. The ships were smaller than _Voyager_, with crews of no more than thirty, but they were armed and protected like battle cruisers. _Voyager_ could handle one of them easily, but three in concert--it was going to be a fight.  
  
She watched as Ishtak's first shot went wide of the mark. Then the ship shuddered. "Direct hit to the port nacelle," the Klingon reported. "Shields are holding."  
  
"Fire at will," Janeway said. "I want them disarmed if possible. Keep trying to hail them, Auraan."  
  
The viewscreen showed the dart of pure energy that zipped from _Voyager_ to the alien ship in the middle of the formation. It struck the hull but was absorbed by the shields. A second bolt followed almost immediately to the same site, and this time the shields flared with light. When they dimmed, the ship appeared undamaged.  
  
"Two direct hits," Tuvok observed, "but without effect."  
  
_Voyager_ twisted and turned in space, trying to avoid enemy fire and still have a vantage for its own shots. Ishtak fired phasers again and again, each time hitting a target, but with minimal damage. The aliens fired with accuracy, too, and _Voyager_ jerked and shimmied from repeated hits.  
  
"Damage reported on Deck 15," Tuvok said. "Shields down to 90%."  
  
Auraan's voice rose slightly. "Ambassador Diaza is calling the Bridge. He wants to know what's going on."  
  
"Tell him to take a good guess, but clear that comm," Janeway snapped. "We're busy."  
  
Another phaser struck, and the lights on the Bridge blinked twice before stabilizing. "Shields down to 85%," Tuvok reported. He checked his console and added, "Engineering reports an overload in EPS systems on Deck 11."  
  
Janeway frowned, and tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Engineering. B'Elanna, how soon can we switch to transwarp?"  
  
_"Ah--"_ B'Elanna sounded surprised. Janeway couldn't blame her; they had never contemplated activating the transwarp drive in the middle of a battle. _"Give me three minutes, Captain. It's going to be a little tricky."_  
  
_Nice understatement,_ Janeway thought. "Three minutes, B'Elanna. That's it."  
  
She turned and found Tuvok regarding her with a raised eyebrow. "I don't want to take a lot of damage for no apparent reason. We can outrun them, and we will."  
  
"Initiating transwarp under these conditions is not recommended," he reminded her.  
  
"Getting ambushed isn't recommended, either." She turned to Paris. "Get ready, Tom. It doesn't matter which direction we go, just be prepared to go quickly."  
  
Without breaking his concentration, Paris nodded. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
She was asking a lot of him, she knew. He had to stay focused on the defensive maneuvers and lay in the calculations for transwarp. There weren't many pilots who could handle that simultaneously, but she had faith in Tom.  
  
"Ha!" Ishtak shouted. "Weapons are down on the third attacker."  
  
She nodded in satisfaction. "Good work. Auraan, if they aren't talking to us, are they talking to each other?"  
  
"Not on normal frequencies." Then her eyes lit with inspiration. "Maybe there's something here...yes, there's definitely something. It's not voice communication, but there's some kind of signal passing between the ships on the low E-M bandwidths."  
  
_Voyager_ shook again, a little harder this time. Janeway slapped her comm control. "B'Elanna?"  
  
"Stand by, Captain. We need another minute."  
  
"Two more ships approaching," Ishtak said, then added, "They're Vidiian."  
  
On the viewscreen, she watched as two gleaming light cruisers, nearly the size of _Voyager_, swooped in and began firing on the three alien ships. After an initial return of fire, the three ships broke formation and fled, streaking into warp drive.  
  
"Stand down transwarp drive," Janeway ordered at once.  
  
"We're being hailed," Auraan said. "Captain Fren of the Sodality Defense Force."  
  
"On screen." Janeway stood, and greeted the uniformed Vidiian who now faced her. Although his face was lined with fine scars, he looked healthy and fit. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. Thank you, Captain. Your timing was excellent."  
  
_"Happy to be of assistance," _Fren replied. _"Although you seemed to be doing well enough."_  
  
"Do you know who they were?" she asked. "They never contacted us or gave a reason for the attack."  
  
He frowned. _"Specifically, no. Generally, we know there is a band of renegades operating in this sector. They're a conglomeration of disaffected Kazon, Talaxian, and I'm sorry to add, Vidiians, who are little more than pirates and thieves. My guess is they were after your transwarp technology."_  
  
She considered that for a moment. It was plausible, so plausible it was almost too easy. Or was she just paranoid? In any case, it didn't matter. The ship was damaged, and Vidiia was the closest port where repairs could be made. She smiled her best diplomatic smile. "That explains it, then."  
  
_"There may be more of them nearby,"_ Fren said. _The Sodality suggests we escort you the rest of the way. A convoy faces less danger of attack."_  
  
"A wise precaution. We accept your assistance." Then she added, "We will need to begin slowly, though. I'd like to stay at Warp 2 until my Engineer confirms the damage to the engines is repaired."  
  
Fren nodded. _"Of course. We'll follow your lead."_  
  
The screen went dark. "Were the engines damaged?" Paris asked. "I missed that."  
  
She smiled. "It wouldn't be prudent to push the ship until we have ascertained all the damage." She turned to Auraan. "Did you get that E-M signal?"  
  
"Only about forty seconds."  
  
"I want a report on it in an hour. If there's anything that confirms or refutes Fren's pirate story, I want to know."  
  
She didn't like this. She didn't like this at all. They were heading into Vidiia with far too many unanswered questions.  
  
  
  



	6. Act 5

  
**ACT FIVE**  
  
**_Vidalia City, Vidiia--November 11, 2381, Stardate 57861.6_**  
  
_Who,_ Mark wondered, _who wrote the algorithm for love?_ Surely not Lewis Zimmerman, at least, not the Lewis of fifteen years ago. Back then, the only love his legal father had understood was that of self. He knew for a fact that nothing Lewis had created was responsible for the fact he now stood here, in the public lobby of the President's Residence in Vidalia City, hoping for a glimpse--just a glimpse--of Denara Pel.  
  
How could a hologram feel a lump in his throat, sense his pulse racing, and his breath pant? There was no factual basis for these sensations, and yet he felt them, fully and completely and undeniably. The mere thought of seeing Denara again excited him in ways he could not explain.  
  
Kes was to blame, he decided, as he walked with exaggerated casualness to examine another piece of statuary. When he realized he was staring at a nude woman, he recoiled for a moment, but then studied it with professional detachment. The goddess--or so he surmised from the pose, which was reminiscent of the famed statue of Nike on Earth--certainly displayed divine endowments. Not even Seven...  
  
With a wrench of his thoughts, he moved on to the next statue, a representation of some type of noble bird. Yes, he could lay place the origin of his current state of mind directly with his private reunion with Kes. She asked about Seven, and when he described her decision to leave _Voyager_ in general terms, her entire demeanor changed. "You loved her very much," she had said.  
  
He couldn't deny it. His feelings for Seven were already known by those closest to him, and who was closer than Kes? "I did," he said, "but she didn't feel the same way."  
  
"I'm sorry," she replied, and for once, he was willing to accept the sympathy. "But love is never futile, you know. If you learned to love deeply once, you will again."  
  
_Did you?_ he had wanted to ask, but didn't. He was afraid he knew the answer, and it wasn't a happy one.  
  
But ever since then, he had been thinking about Denara. She had been his first lover, and his first love. Well, to be accurate, he had loved her as much as his programming at the time allowed--but in his memory, there was little difference between that and what he had felt for Seven. When it came to emotions, 100% was 100%, no matter the total capacity.  
  
And yes, he loved Kes with all his matrix, too. But it was different. Kes was his teacher and his student, his friend and confidante. She had taught him the basics of human interaction, and in that respect, she was like his mother.  
  
Eeew. Make that sister. Yes, he probably couldn't appreciate his sister Haley nearly as much if he hadn't known Kes first.  
  
A woman holding the hand of a small child jostled him, trying for a closer look at the bird. He tried to find some special quality, noting the beak and the eyes and the wingspan. It looked like a crow. Perhaps it held some place in Vidiian mythology.  
  
He began to walk to the next statue when he saw her, coming down one of the five marble corridors that led to the public lobby. Denara. She wore a simple suit of mocha brown with a white blouse underneath, but it set off her coloring. Her hair had grown back thick and long, and at a distance, her face appeared free of scars.  
  
He forgot to maintain the appearance of breathing. She was beautiful.  
  
She didn't notice him as she walked purposefully across the lobby, and he didn't want to disturb her. The conference was about to begin. She surely had more important things on her mind than him.  
  
But then she slowed and looked around, as if suddenly uncertain of her surroundings. One hand pressed against her temple, a universal sign of a headache. Then she walked slowly to one of the benches lining the wall and sat down.  
  
If she hadn't looked so forlorn, he would have left her alone. He had promised Captain Janeway he wouldn't disturb her before the conference. But she seemed vulnerable and in need of support.  
  
He had no idea how she felt about him. It was likely he was a pleasant memory, at best. But as he watched her slump forward and massage her forehead, he thought he had never seen anyone in as much need of a friend.  
  
Without thinking any more about it, he walked over to her. She didn't look up as he approached. "It can't be that bad," he said quietly.  
  
Her head jerked up in surprise, and her mouth opened a bit. The sudden light in her eyes was more than gratifying. "Schmullis! I mean, Dr.--oh, I'm sorry, I don't remember."  
  
"Zimmerman," he told her, holding out both hands. "But you can call me Schmullis."  
  
She grabbed his hands to pull herself up, and didn't let go when she stood in front of him. Her face was only centimeters from his. "Oh," she breathed, "you haven't changed."  
  
"You have," he said honestly. "You're more beautiful than I remembered."  
  
Her face flushed, and her eyes turned to the floor. "You don't have to say that. I know the truth."  
  
"I told the truth," he said, squeezing her hands. "This is the real you--not a hologram and not a Phage victim. How could you be anything but beautiful?"  
  
That caught her off guard, he realized. Her eyes widened in surprise and then looked away, unable to face him. _Too much too fast,_ he thought, and deliberately changed his tone to be light and cordial, but not intimate. "So. You're an ambassador now."  
  
"Yes." She relaxed visibly, and smiled. "For four whole months. I never expected this. I'm told it's an honor, but I'm a doctor, not a diplomat. I feel a little out of my depth."  
  
"You'll be wonderful." _Be careful,_ he told himself. _She's got too much on her mind as it is. Be her friend, but don't pressure her._ "I shouldn't keep you. I know the conference starts soon."  
  
"Yes, I've been meeting with President Dop all morning. We have to convince the Federation...you...that _we_ aren't behind the strange things that have happened." The light faded from her eyes and she gripped his hands so tightly that a bone might have broken, had he been flesh and blood. "Schmullis, I promise you, we weren't. We aren't."  
  
"I believe you." And, somewhat to his surprise, he realized that he did. Denara wasn't capable of a deception this passionate; she was honest to her tiniest cell. "I'm sure Captain Janeway and Ambassador Diaza will, too."  
  
She smiled, the tremulous gesture becoming more confident as he smiled back. "I'm so glad to see you," she finally said. "Ever since I heard _Voyager_ was coming back, I've been hoping you were aboard."  
  
His heart soared. That was exactly what it felt like. He couldn't explain it, he just reveled in the feeling. "And I've been looking forward to seeing you again." Still holding her hands, he added, "I know you have to go. Why don't you call me when the conference is over? I can come back then, and we can talk. Perhaps you can show me around. I've never been to Vidiia before."  
  
"I know," she said. Her eyes were shining again. "I'd like that."  
  
They stood, neither moving nor speaking, for several seconds. Mark could have remained like that longer, but the woman with the child walked by, and the tot stumbled, grabbed Mark's leg, and righted himself. The contact brought him back to reality. "Good. I'll wait for your call." He dropped her hands and stepped back.  
  
She smiled once more, her eyes taking him in. Then, without warning, she pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Wish me luck," she whispered, and then turned and hurried down the corridor.  
  
"Good luck," he said softly, watching her disappear into the shadows.  
  
  
**_Vidalia City, Vidiia--November 11, 2381, Stardate 57861.7_**  
  
The conference room in the Vidiian Official Residence, home and workplace of the President, had seen better days. As the Federation and Ocampan delegation waited for the Vidiians to arrive, Kathryn took the opportunity to study her surroundings rather than stare down Diaza. The Andorian had told her in no uncertain terms that he expected her to defer to him in this session. Rather than indulge in a fruitless argument, she had said nothing.  
  
But if he thought she was going to let the Vidiians--or anyone else--side-step the issues, he was mistaken.  
  
So, she sat quietly and tried to determine what clues to the Vidiian mind might be found in the walls and furniture. At first blush, the room seemed exquisite. The high ceiling was coffered with gleaming dark wood inlaid with what appeared to be mother-of-pearl. Four large windows reached almost to the ceiling, ending in palladium arches which provided a panoramic view of Vidalia City in virtually every direction. The walls were covered in pale green jacquard silk, broken by crown molding in gleaming dark wood and decorated with oil paintings in elaborate frames. The conference table and chairs were carved from the same dark wood and upholstered with the same jacquard silk. It spoke of opulence and age.  
  
Especially age, she realized. On closer inspection, the table--although highly polished--was nicked and scratched in many places. So were the arms of her chair. The cushion of the chair next to her sported two shades of green, the original color and an area faded by exposure to the sun. The room was clean and well-kept, but it had been a very long time since it had been refurbished.  
  
She was pondering the implications of this when the double doors opened and three people walked in. She recognized President Dop and Denara Pel, but the identity of the third was a mystery to her. Clearly approaching middle age, the man carried himself with an aura of confidence that almost eclipsed the presence of the President. Taking her cue from Diaza, Kathryn stood.  
  
"My apologies for keeping you waiting," President Dop said to them. "We were waiting for a last bit of data." He placed his palms together and bowed at the waist.  
  
Diaza mimicked the gesture. "There is no need to apologize, Mr. President. We have not been waiting long. May I introduce our delegation?"  
  
"Please do."  
  
"First, the representatives of the Ocampan people--Councilor Vertris, Councilor Mairel and...Kes."  
  
Vertris glanced briefly at Diaza with barely concealed annoyance. "Kes is our most respected advisor, Mr. President. She may not have a title, but only because she rejects every one we suggest."  
  
Dop bowed again, directing the gesture to Kes alone. "So I understand. I am honored to see you again."  
  
Kes smiled warmly. "The honor is mine." _She's looking well today,_ Kathryn thought. She had spent a great deal of her time on _Voyager_ resting, and often Kathryn had feared she had taken on too much for one of her advanced years. At the moment, though, Kes appeared strong and healthy.  
  
"Our Federation delegation includes my attaché, Commander Daeja Thev," Diaza continued, "Captain Geordi La Forge, commanding the _Odyssey_, and Captain Kathryn Janeway, commanding _Voyager_."  
  
Dop acknowledged each of them with a nod. "I had understood that Captain Janeway also served as fleet commander for this expedition."  
  
She smiled. "You are correct, Mr. President." She found that she liked Dop. With his somewhat thinning white hair, faintly Phage-scarred face, and slender build, he was as far from threatening as one could imagine. He had once been a professor, she recalled, and she could easily picture him as a Vidiian Mr. Chips.  
  
"Allow me to introduce my colleagues." He gestured first to his left. "I believe some of you already know Ambassador Dr. Denara Pel. She is a physician by profession and inclination, but has generously agreed to represent her people at this critical juncture of our history."  
  
It had been a decade since Kathryn had seen Dr. Pel, but time had been good to her. Although she had been ravaged by the Phage when she left _Voyager_, only a few fine scars were left to attest to it. Her dark hair was fully regrown and long, although streaked ever so lightly with silver. She was, perhaps, too thin, and she looked nervous. "It's good to see you again, Dr. Pel," she said, earning a glare from Diaza. "I never had the chance to thank you for your assistance when Chakotay and I were ill."  
  
Denara's smile was quick and genuine. "I was glad to help, Captain. It was the least I could do. And Kes, it's good to see you again."  
  
Kes nodded. "And you."  
  
President Dop turned to his right. "None of you will have met Mupano Tar, one of our leading citizens. Like Kes, he has no title because he has declined to accept one--yet. I have asked him to join us today, for reasons that will become clear as we talk." With both hands, he indicated the table. "Shall we begin?"  
  
Everyone took a seat. Kathryn made certain she was sitting between Kes and La Forge and directly across from Daeja Thev. She wanted to be able to see her old friend's reaction to events.  
  
"I would like to begin," President Dop said, "by reiterating how much this alliance, and the proposed new colony, means to Vidiia. And to me, personally. This presents an opportunity we had not anticipated. It is a chance for us to show that we have put the past behind us, and are again ready to be partners with our galactic neighbors."  
  
"And it is important to the Federation," Diaza replied. "We, too, hope to put the past behind us and open a new chapter in relations between the Alpha Quadrant and the Delta Quadrant."  
  
Kathryn willed herself not to betray any response to this. But she found herself wondering if she could convince Diaza to try diplomatic contact with the Hirogen.  
  
"And if I may speak for the Ocampa for a moment, it is of vital importance to them." Diaza paused, and his face settled into a mask of concern. "However, recent events have raised certain questions that must be resolved before we can proceed."  
  
"Indeed," President Dop said, leaping in. "I think we can save a great deal of time, Ambassador Diaza, if we address those now, without going through all the normal diplomatic discourse. Not that I don't appreciate it," he added. "In its own way, it's a form of art. But I think we all feel time is of the essence, and sometimes diplomacy simply takes too long. Let's start at the top: you suspect that the Phage has not been cured as we represented."  
  
Diaza looked rather shocked, and his antennae curled straight backwards. "Well, yes."  
  
"I would like Dr. Pel to speak to that."  
  
Denara cleared her throat. "The Antiphagia was years in development. Once we were certain it would be 100% effective, it was offered to the entire population. We may not be able to guarantee that every Vidiian has been cured, but we can safely say that anyone who still suffers from the disease does so voluntarily." She reached into a small case she had brought with her and slid something across the table to Kathryn. "All the information is on this data chip," she said. "Your physicians should be able to confirm what I have said. Especially your EMH; he learned a great deal about the Phage while I was on board your ship."  
  
Despite Diaza's obvious displeasure--or perhaps because of it--Kathryn gathered the chip into her hand. "I'm sure he did. We'll give this to Dr. Zimmerman immediately."  
  
"So what you're saying," La Forge said, ignoring Diaza's stare, "is that the two men we found who died of the Phage could have been cured if they had just asked for it?"  
  
"Exactly." Denara's eyes shone with sincerity. "I can't tell you why they didn't ask, Captain La Forge. I can only tell you that if they had, they would have been cured."  
  
"What about the invidium?" Geordi pressed, earning a cough from Diaza.  
  
Denara glanced at Dop to make certain she was supposed to respond. "We can only speculate," she said. Kathryn watched her closely, noting that she was much more tentative on this point. "We don't use invidium in our technology anymore. It's far too dangerous."  
  
La Forge nodded. "Oh, yes."  
  
"As you know, it is used most commonly in medical containment fields because of its ability to block the spread of airborne pathogens. We had abandoned it completely about a hundred years ago, but then, about eighty years ago, one of our scientists developed an experimental device." She reached into her case and removed another data chip. "Its intent was to create a kind of personal containment field that slowed the progress of the disease. It was never approved for general use, but the manufacturer was unable to account for more than a dozen experimental models. We thought they had been destroyed or discarded, but your experience suggests they may have landed on the black market."  
  
This time, Diaza reached for the chip before she could hand it to Kathryn. He immediately passed it off to Commander Thev.  
  
"And this is the only use for invidium you know of?" he asked.  
  
"As I said, we had abandoned its usage quite some time ago. I doubt any of the medical containment systems using it still survive." She fixed her eyes on Janeway. "It's not a very complete explanation, I know, but it's the best we can do. The use of invidium is very hard to understand."  
  
"That brings us to the attacks on your two ships," President Dop said. He glanced at Denara, and she handed him yet another data chip from the case. "There is nothing more difficult than trying to prove a negative. I can only assure you that we have been coping with the increasingly aggressive presence of mercenaries--some might even call them pirates--in this region of space for some time."  
  
He looked down at the chip in his hand. "Here," he said, "is all the data assembled by the Vidiian Defense Force during the last five years about these mercenaries. I am giving it to you over the objections of the Chiefs of Staff and Planetary Security Council. I believe that sharing this data is the only hope we have to convince you we had nothing to do with the two cowardly attacks."  
  
With great deliberation, he reached across the table and handed the chip to Diaza. "We have no other explanation to offer," he said. "Either this will be enough for you to trust us, or it won't. It should prove the level of our trust in you, however. That chip contains information about our planetary defense system. With this data, you could mount an attack against us that could succeed very quickly."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. President." Diaza's voice was thick, as if he were emotionally moved. Kathryn looked at him closely and saw that his antennae had moved to a configuration she had never seen from him. They were almost flat against his scalp, but curving inward. On her friend Daeja, that would have signified some profound emotion, but each Andorian's reaction was different.  
  
She looked at Dae, who was carefully keeping her own face blank as she stared at Diaza. But her antennae were betraying her surprise.  
  
"I can only tell you that we are extremely dismayed by the events of the past few days," Dop continued. "As of this afternoon, I have appointed a special commission to look into all of this. Mupano Tar--" he inclined his head towards his subject--"has graciously agreed to serve as its Chair. He is uniquely qualified for this role, in that he has no ties whatsoever to either the government or the military."  
  
"If I may, Mr. President," Tar added, "I also have a personal reason for getting to the bottom of things. Scientists working for my company developed the Antiphagia. If there is anyone out there who, for some inconceivable reason, doesn't know about it, we want to find them. And quite frankly, my company has been a frequent target of raiding by these mercenaries. I want to find them as badly as you do--perhaps more."  
  
_He sounds convincing_, Kathryn thought. Part of it was his voice, a liquid baritone that almost oozed with sincerity. Part of it was the intensity in his eyes when he spoke. But what was it about him, she wondered, that made her think of a Ferengi?  
  
"All of my assets--both personal and corporate--are dedicated to one thing," Tar continued. "Building a better Vidiia, each and every day. That's my motto. Those who perpetuate fear and violence work against us. They must be stopped."  
  
President Dop looked around the table, his gaze lingering first on Janeway and then on Kes. "Please. It may be too much to ask you to trust us, but give us a chance to prove we are trustworthy."  
  
Kes looked almost sad. "We have few other options, Mr. President. The prospect of extinction is even more likely for us than it was even for you; at least you always had the possibility of a cure, whereas we are doomed unless we find a new home. Still," she turned to Kathryn, "I would like to hear what Captain Janeway thinks."  
  
Every eye in the room suddenly fixed on her. Kathryn swallowed. If she intended to scuttle this mission, this was her chance. She noted the cold anger in Diaza's expression, the cautionary curve of Dae's antennae, the tension of Dop and Tar, and the almost identical aura of hope from Denara Pel and the two Ocampan council members. Only Kes and La Forge regarded her with anything close to simple curiosity.  
  
"It's true I have grave concerns," she began slowly. "Our previous experience gives us reason to be cautious. I want to analyze this--" she lifted the data chip--"and the others, but I have no doubt that they reflect your statements."  
  
_After all,_ she thought, _it would make no sense for them to get caught in an untruth so easily. They had known of the issues and had time to prepare a response._ "Still, and to be painfully blunt, it is difficult to believe you have overcome the pattern of decades in just a few short years."  
  
Dop's face fell. "I can hardly blame you for feeling that way. We battled the Phage for nearly two millennia, and it did more than rot away our flesh. It left us diseased spiritually, morally, economically--virtually any way you care to name. But we are healing, Captain. We are getting better."  
  
"All we need is a chance to redeem ourselves," Denara added, her voice pleading. "You of all people understand that, Captain Janeway."  
  
_Direct hit,_ Kathryn thought, bemused. Hoist by her own personal petard. Of all people, perhaps only Denara Pel, who had saved Kathryn and Chakotay at great peril to herself, could have made that point.  
  
It was possible, she had to admit, they were telling the truth. No government was able to control every citizen. Everyone had dissidents and even renegades. If the official government was trying to make amends and be forthright, then the colony faced no more danger than any other new colony.  
  
She took a breath. "Yes. I do. And I'm willing to admit I may be biased because of my prior encounters. I still have concerns. And I'm still going to investigate these events on my own. But assuming these reports support your conclusions, I see no reason to change our plans now."  
  
The collective relief around the table manifested in a group sigh and shoulders sagging back against chairs. Daeja smiled, and even Diaza looked pleased.  
  
"Thank you, Captain," Kes said smoothly, bringing them all back to the moment. "I hope you will continue to investigate. I'm sure we all appreciate the extra resources."  
  
Addressing her next words directly to President Dop, she said, "As I said, Mr. President, we Ocampa face a bleak future without this alliance--so bleak that we are willing to compromise our sovereignty if need be. We will make good neighbors and good citizens. But make no mistake--if we find that we have traded one dark future for another, we will defend ourselves. I don't mean that as a threat, but as a reality."  
  
"We could expect no less," Dop said, but Kathryn wondered if he had the slightest concept of the weapons the Ocampa--or at least one of them--could bring to bear. She suspected not, or he would be having second thoughts of his own.  
  
"Well," Diaza said just a little too loudly, "if we are all in agreement, then I would ask Commander Thev to distribute the latest draft of the Treaty. Once the wording is to everyone's satisfaction, we can go forward with the signing ceremony as planned."   
  
The discussion turned into a review of the legal minutiae, and Kathryn's attention wandered. Had she done the right thing? If she had refused to go forward with the alliance, both the Ocampa and the Vidiians would have suffered, and there just wasn't enough evidence to justify that. Her instincts told her that Dop and Denara could be trusted, and yet, something wasn't quite right.  
  
Only time would tell. Well, no one ever said life in the Delta Quadrant was easy.  
  
  
**_Vidalia City, Vidiia--November 11, 2381, Stardate 57862.5_**  
  
The sun was warm on her face as Denara threw back her head and laughed. "Oh, Schmullis," she said when she could speak again, "Not really. You didn't."  
  
Dr. Mark Lewis Zimmerman smiled smugly. "I most certainly did. And the Emergency Command Hologram was very convincing, let me tell you." His superior attitude faded almost at once to self-deprecation. "Of course, it helped that Captain Janeway was on an audio link, telling me what to do every step of the way."  
  
"I'm sure you were wonderful." Denara felt wonderful herself. It had been a long time, a very long time, since she had allowed herself the luxury of a long walk with a friend. Once the conference had ended, she had kept her promise and invited him down to the planet, ostensibly for a tour of her clinic facilities. The truth was, she was delighted to see him again and wanted to spend some time with him. The years had fallen away immediately, and when they finished in the Clinic, she offered to show him Vidalia City. It was a delightful surprise to find that so little had changed between them.  
  
One thing was different, though. Reaching up, she touched the mobile emitter. "I still can't get over this. I can't believe you can come walk outside with me."  
  
"It's a gift I don't take for granted," he said. "I just wish I'd had this when you were on board."  
  
"I don't," she said. "I wouldn't change anything about that time." Suddenly shy, she looked away. What she saw made her stop walking. "Oh. I didn't realize we'd come this far."  
  
He looked around. "Where are we?"  
  
"The Meyel district." She drew in a deep breath. It was still very obvious there had been a fire here. Block after block had been cleared, leaving only the ghostly outlines of streets and buildings. "It's hard to believe, but only a few months ago, thousands of people lived here. I lived here. My apartment was right over there." She pointed in a southerly direction.

He took in the emptiness, barren but for large construction vehicles parked and waiting for use. "How did it start?"

"No one knows how it started, but it spread quickly and wiped out everything in two districts." She sighed. "The housing was very old. Almost all of it was noncompliant with current safety codes. But it was all most of the people here could afford."  
  
The depth of concern in his face surprised and touched her. He had still been learning about emotions when they first met, but he'd obviously advanced a great deal. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Were many people killed?"  
  
"Too many, but a lot did get away. It could have been much worse. But the rest are homeless now. The government set up emergency shelters on the outskirts of town, but conditions aren't good." She smiled at him. "Many of them will leave for the new colony. That's one reason this alliance is so important. So many people are counting on its success. The timing of the alliance couldn't have been more fortuitous. It not only has created the opportunity for a truly joint colony, but it offers a fresh start for thousands of displaced people."   
  
"Including you?" he asked gently.  
  
"I suppose. I hadn't planned it," she added quickly. "I was content with my practice and my research. But then the fire happened, and President Dop asked me to be an ambassador, and--" she shrugged. "Everything's topsy-turvy."  
  
“I still don’t know why you said yes.” He looked at her with concern. "Are you certain it's what you want? It's not usually a good idea to make such a major decision in the midst of such turmoil."  
  
"No, it's not what I want." Immediately, she felt relief flood through her. She hadn't known how much she wanted to say that out loud. "I just want to go on practicing medicine and continuing my research. But President Dop is right. We need this alliance, and I'm in a unique position to help facilitate relations with the Federation. If I doubted that before, today proved it to me. I don't think Captain Janeway would have believed anyone but me."  
  
He squeezed her hand, a gesture of friendship and reassurance. "You're right. The captain trusts you. We all do."  
  
_It's so nice being with him again,_ she thought. _Nice to have a friend she could really talk with._  
  
"And I can't imagine that all your time will be taken up with ambassadorial duties," he went on, suddenly cheerful. "You can probably manage to squeeze some medicine in. What's the nature of your research?"  
  
Her heart lifted at the opportunity to talk about her favorite topic. "Countering the most severe side-effects of the Antiphagia," she began, and launched into a detailed explanation of the infertility problem and the false starts and blind alleys she had already pursued in her efforts.  
  
"...protein analysis showed..." She trailed off, realizing that he was looking quite angry. Yes, she had probably gone into more detail than he really wanted at that moment, but still he was too polite to show that much affront. "What's wrong?"  
  
"I'm sorry. I just can't believe the Think Tank didn't warn you about these side effects when they sold you the cure." His eyes snapped. "No, I can believe it. Behind their pretentious altruism, they were unethical blackmailers. Unfortunately, this is all too consistent with our experience with them."  
  
She blinked. "I don't understand. But you're mistaken. Our scientists developed the Antiphagia. No one sold it to us."  
  
"But Kurros said--" He cut himself off. "Well, I don't know why we believed him anyway. When he told us he'd sold the Vidiians the cure to the Phage, it was part of his sales pitch to us--before he showed his true colors. He probably knew we had no way of checking and took credit for what happened here."  
  
"Hmm." She still didn't understand exactly what he meant, but it disturbed her greatly that someone claimed to have sold them the cure. "That really bothers me, Schmullis. It cheapens our accomplishment. The discovery of the Antiphagia took years to complete. It's one of the great scientific achievements in our history. And no one person can claim sole credit, let alone some...some off-worlders who never set foot on Vidiia."  
  
"You don't have to worry about Kurros and the Think Tank anymore," he assured her. "We took care of them. Tell me how it happened."  
  
"The big breakthrough came when Dr. Dorstov Reyn finally mapped the mutation mechanism embedded in the genome of the Phage. It's completely different from anything we'd ever seen or expected. From there, it was just a matter of time until we developed the Antiphagia." She smiled sadly. "Poor Dr. Reyn never knew the outcome of his discovery."  
  
"The Phage?"  
  
"That's what I heard. He was found dead in his lab one night, slumped over his computer, dedicated to his work to the very end. It took a while to recover his final notes, but he received the credit he deserved for his discovery." She shook her head. "He wasn't a well-known scientist. He was a Mupano Industries pharmacologist who specialized in developing medicines to alleviate the suffering of Phage victims."  
  
"How sad," he said. "But obviously, the Think Tank had nothing to do with it. Captain Janeway will be quite interested to hear this."  
  
"Just what is this 'Think Tank'?" she asked.  
  
"It was a small group of beings from several different species, each with a truly superior intellect. They banded together to sell 'solutions' to people."  
  
"Solutions?"  
  
"To unsolvable problems." He shook his head. "But they always had a price, and they made sure the price was always painful."  
  
She chuckled. "Oh, well then, we couldn't have bought anything from them anyway. Our economy has been in shreds for decades."  
  
"Oh, they didn't always want monetary payment. They were interested in the rare and unique." He frowned. "They wanted our Astrometrics officer as the fee for the solution to our problem."  
  
"They wanted a person?"  
  
He nodded. "You never met Seven. She joined us after you were on board, but she was... exceptional. And they wanted her to join them, regardless of what she wanted."  
  
Denara looked past the horizon. "That's wrong," she said softly. _As wrong as many things the Vidiians had done in the name of survival,_ she thought. If someone had offered a cure for a price that was attainable, if morals were ignored, she felt certain that some factions of her people would have leaped at the chance.  
  
"It's all documented," she added faintly. But she remembered how astonished everyone had been that an undistinguished unknown like Reyn had made the key breakthrough. "I can't even imagine what the price might have been."  
  
He squeezed her hand again. "I didn't mean to upset you. You're undoubtedly right. Come on, show me some more of your city before we run out of time." He smiled at her. "Before you have to be ‘Ambassador Pel’ again."  
  
Shaking off her sudden worry, she smiled. "You'll be there, won't you?"  
  
"I wouldn't miss it," he assured her.  
  
  
**_Vidalia City, Vidiia--November 12, 2381, Stardate 57865.2_**  
  
Dr. Krazel Lem was having a very long afternoon and was trying not to show it. But he couldn't help jerking back when his patient's _debarl_ growled again.  
  
"Friesta, you're scaring the doctor," the patient said with a laugh, then reached over to pat the top of the pet's head. She laughed louder when it snapped at her. "He's high strung."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Krazel responded. "The treatments are progressing well."  
  
To his extreme irritation, she laughed once more, a trill of self-absorbed oblivion. "Doctor, you are a miracle worker."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he muttered. It wasn't her fault that the day after Denara had attended her first diplomatic function with the Federation, he'd been reassigned to the new clinic. It was situated in a much nicer neighborhood--a neighborhood where clients like Madam Tilp could pay for their treatment. And pay for the privilege of bringing their animals along for medical visits.  
  
"Say good-bye to the nice doctor, Friesta. The _debarl_ growled louder as she picked up the leash. "He likes you, you know."  
  
"Yes, ma'am." He couldn't tell her that the beast should be muzzled--or left at home.  
  
She left, taking her creature with her--he couldn't bring himself to call the animal a pet. Pets were supposed to be friendly. "This is ridiculous," he muttered as he completed her medical record. He much preferred the old Meyel district clinic. This one was too modern, too clean--and too rigid. He felt out of place.  
  
He closed the file. He'd tell Klim that he wanted to return to pure research. Anything was better than this, and he could probably find a place for a free clinic on the side.  
  
Maybe Klim would fire him. He didn't really care how he left the clinic.  
  
The door opened, and the nurse looked in. "Your next patient is here."  
  
"Give me a couple of minutes." He didn't wait for the nurse to remind him that the patient, whoever it was, had other appointments to keep. He almost ran down the hall.  
  
"I don't care, Wom," a voice said from Klim's office. Krazel recognized the voice as Tycos Indorin. He started to turn away.  
  
"Don't give me that. The whole situation was bungled. President Dop has appointed a special counsel to investigate." There was a long pause, where Krazel figured this Wom person was speaking.  
  
"I don't really care what Var wants, he'll obey orders. So some of our customers will be unhappy. At least _they_ don't seem to be a factor anymore."  
  
Krazel moved away from the door, wondering just who "they" were, and why Indorin would be worried about a special counsel investigation. Could there be a problem with the research?  
  
"Ah, Dr. Lem, I believe you have a patient." Lendar Klim had come up behind him, from the patient lobby. "I hope you realize these are important people."  
  
"Yes ma'am...I just needed to...you know." Krazel, terrified he'd been caught eavesdropping, jerked his head toward the bathroom.  
  
"Of course." Klim's smile dripped with understanding. "But don't take too long. Happy clients donate to our research. Unhappy clients don't. We wouldn't want any cut backs in your research, would we?"  
  
His intent to request a transfer was forgotten as he tried to figure out if she had just threatened him. Deciding that she had, he said quickly, "I'll be right there." It had never occurred to him that there was a connection between all the Madam Tilps in the lobby and his research.  
  
"Good. Remember," Klim added sweetly, "we're building a better Vidiia, each and every day."  
  
Krazel nodded, still reeling from the revelation that his ability to continue with his research was dependent on the spoiled hypochondriacs with their obnoxious animals who flocked to the clinic. Had Denara known this? She must have. That was probably why she stayed away as much as she could.  
  
As he hurried to the waiting patient, he just hoped she hadn't brought a _debarl_ along, too.  
  
  
**_Somewhere in the Delta Quadrant--November 14, 2381, Stardate 57869.3_**   
  
From the safety of the hidden spaceport, the captain of the alien ship took a healthy swig of _golang _draught as he read the damage report. All in all, it wasn't bad. Some external hull damage, one nacelle fried, some internal circuits blown. Nothing that a few weeks in drydock couldn't fix. "Satisfactory," he said. "All in all, most satisfactory."  
  
His wife scowled at him. "Did we get paid?"  
  
He nodded. "The fee has been deposited. Our employer was most pleased with our attack on _Voyager_. We did just the right amount of damage--enough to be convincing, without requiring extensive repairs. It served his purposes well--apparently they have accepted the Vidiians' explanation for everything. And better still, it made up for the way Vostre bungled his job with that derelict ship." He set the mug down and pulled her into his lap. "We can expect more jobs in the future. And he has renewed his promise to reward us for our 'faithful services.' We won't have to wait much longer to reach our ultimate goal."  
  
She smiled in delight and ran her hands through his hair suggestively. "And _Voyager_," she purred. "We will get to attack _Voyager_ again?"  
  
He loved the feel of her, the scent of her. Even after five years, there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. "We will," he promised. "Whether we're hired to or not. You'll have your revenge."  
  
  
  



	7. Epilogue

**Epilogue**  
  
**_Vidalia City, Vidiia--November 21, 2381, Stardate 57887.2_**  
  
Kes studied the three giant banners hanging from the rafters of the Great Hall of the People. The symbol of the Sodality, looking more spider-like than ever at a distance, was flanked by the blue and white banner of the Federation on one side and the newly created green and white banner of Ocampa on the other. She wondered if anyone other than herself actually liked it.  
  
The green background was the color of grass and leaves and carried the promise of fertility, growth and rebirth. It was the color the Ocampa had dreamed of during all their years underground, and still dreamed of even now. The white symbol in the center was, in Kes's opinion, a bit of serendipity. The Ocampan pictograph for Life had always been one of her favorites. She had always thought it an elegant representation of the Ocampan philosophy--life should be balanced between the physical and the mental, between the past and the future, happiness and sorrow, good and bad. When she learned that humans regarded it as a depiction of an unending, unbroken, immeasurable unit of time called infinity, she had been pleased. Life was like that, unending and repeating.  
  
Her people had never had a national symbol before; they had never needed such a thing. But the Vidiian protocol officer had almost had a stroke when he learned this, and to appease him she had designed one. Vertris and Mairel professed to like it, but she didn't think they really understood its significance. _This is our statement to the galaxy,_ she thought with satisfaction. _We stand for life._  
  
"It's lovely," a voice beside her said, and she turned to find the EMH--no, Dr. Zimmerman--standing beside her. She had barely seen him, since he had left _Voyager_ and traveled on _Odyssey_ almost as soon as he had reached Ocampa. Impulsively she slipped her arm through his.  
  
"It is, isn't it?" she said.  
  
"The banner's nice, but I meant you." He smiled at her. "You look wonderful."  
  
He was seeing her through the filter of affection, she knew. She was no longer the young girl he remembered, but he still perceived her that way. "It's the clothes," she said, indicating the satiny pink pants and tunic. "Captain Janeway let me replicate them. It felt odd, not having to worry about replicator rations."  
  
"Not on the new _Voyager_." He looked into her face intently. "I can't get over how well you seem. Given the Ocampa lifespan, I had resigned myself to never seeing you again until you contacted Tuvok."  
  
She patted his arm. "I'll tell you all about it later. You'll be interested, from a medical perspective." Then she inclined her head to the right, indicating a man standing across the room. "Who is that, talking to Harry?"  
  
"The Haakonian envoy." His voice became dry. "The Vidiians don't have formal diplomatic relations with any of the worlds in this region, but the Haakonians are apparently very interested in this development. They sent a special envoy to witness the ceremony." He lowered his voice. "I believe Mr. Neelix is doing his utmost to avoid him."  
  
"Poor Neelix. Coming home is getting more and more complicated for him." Then she smiled. "Ah. There is Dr. Pel." Denara had just entered the room, wearing a simple dark blue dress and looking a bit overwhelmed. "She looks like she could use a friend."  
  
He kissed her cheek. "I'll see you later."  
  
The room was filling up rapidly. Every Councilor-Delegate of the Sodality was in attendance, with their wives, as well as certain invited private citizens. The Vidiians were dressed in a broad pallet of colors, apparently breaking away from the blacks and grays that characterized their fashion for years. The senior staff from both Federation ships circulated in their bright white dress uniforms, and the effect was like a living rainbow.  
  
Then she spotted Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres. B'Elanna looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Kes hurried over to join them. "I'm so glad you're here," she said. "I know it's an effort."  
  
B'Elanna glanced around. "It's harder than I thought. It's been years, after all. You wouldn't think that just being around Vidiians would give me the creeps."  
  
Kes stifled a smile at her choice of words. Living with Tom had clearly affected her vocabulary. "After what you went through, it's not surprising. But it means a lot to me to see you here."  
  
"Uh-oh," Tom said suddenly. "Unescorted Romulan alert." To Kes, he said apologetically, "Will you excuse us? The Captain doesn't want Prolak wandering around without one of us nearby. But she doesn't want him to realize we're all keeping an eye on him."  
  
"Go," she said, smiling. "I'll see you both at dinner."  
  
They hurried toward Prolak, and she turned the other direction, and promptly bumped into the Haakonian envoy. "I'm sorry," she said.  
  
"No, it was my fault. I was hoping to be introduced to that striking woman." He smiled. "Forgive me. I am Kre Netal, representative of the Haakonian Hegemony."  
  
"Kes," she said. "Of the Ocampa delegation."  
  
"Yes, I know." He smiled pleasantly. "You are one of the architects of this new alliance."  
  
Despite his pleasant smile, she felt on edge. "Do you have concerns about it?"  
  
His smile broadened. "I am merely an observer. We know very little about the Federation, you see. When _Voyager_ was in this part of space before, we had no direct contact. To tell you the truth," he said, lowering his voice, "I am absolutely fascinated by all the different worlds the Federation encompasses. How many are there?"  
  
"You'd have to ask one of them, but I believe over two hundred."  
  
"Really?" He blinked. "That many. Are the humans dominant over the others, or are they simply the warrior class?"  
  
This was beginning to feel like something other than small talk, and she didn't like it. At her age, she no longer had to tolerate things she didn't like. "This really is something you should discuss with them. I believe some of your assumptions are incorrect. You might want to speak with Ambassador Diaza. I'm sure you'd enjoy it." Then she smiled sweetly. "Would you excuse me, please? I must speak with..." looking around frantically, she hit upon the most likely target, "Mupano Tar."  
  
Making her escape, she quickly crossed the room to where the philanthropist was surrounded by several other Vidiians, none of whom she recognized. He smiled broadly at her approach and gently disengaged himself from the gaggle to devote himself to her. "Thank you," he said in a low voice. "The media, you know. Always looking for a story."  
  
"I wanted to say thank you," Kes said. "I have a feeling none of this would be happening without your support."  
  
Mupano waved a hand in the air. "When something benefits Vidiia, I'm interested. If it benefits other people as well, I'm _very_ interested."  
  
"That's very generous of you."  
  
"Not really," he said modestly. "My motivation is purely selfish. I want to see Vidiia restored. Before the Phage, we were the center of civilization in this part of space. Oh, the Trabe liked to claim they were, but they were pretenders. No one could match us for our art, our science, our social awareness.  
  
"Look around," he invited--no, instructed, his voice becoming deep and resonant. "This magnificent hall has stood on this site since before the Phage struck. It's been expanded and refurbished over time, or at least it was until a few hundred years ago. It is the pinnacle of our culture, combining aesthetics with science, and all of it for the people. Someday, possibly even in my lifetime, we'll be capable of this kind of greatness again."  
  
Mupano paused, and then smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I get carried away."  
  
"No apology necessary," she assured him. "You have a vision for your people. I understand that."  
  
"Of course you do," he said thoughtfully. "This alliance wouldn't be happening without you, would it? Vertris was right--you don't have a title, but you're the real power."  
  
Kes shook her head. "I'm just one voice."  
  
"You're more than that," he said. "You should consider accepting a title. You can get much more accomplished that way, I'm learning."  
  
"Excuse me," one of President Dop's aides interrupted them diffidently. "Could I ask you both to come to the dais? We're going to begin."  
  
Kes followed the young man to the large platform that had been erected directly under the three giant banners in the center of the room. Since she was not an official representative of Ocampa, she would not be a signatory to the Treaty, but she had been invited to be one of the witnesses. It took a few minutes to get everyone situated, and Kes had an opportunity to look around at the assembled crowd.  
  
It was easy to pick out the familiar faces. She smiled when she saw Theby Booth and Valerie Archer, the former in his Vidiian disguise and the latter masquerading as an Ocampa, positioned at the very back of the assembly. They were obviously trying to appear as mere observers to the event. Kes didn't know how many people, other than Tuvok--and, perhaps Captain Janeway--knew of the pivotal role they’d played in bringing about this agreement, but she was glad to see them here tonight.  
  
Since the white Starfleet uniforms stood out against the other colors, Kes could pick out Captain Janeway standing near the front, with Chakotay, dressed in a dark civilian suit, close by her side. _They make a striking couple,_ Kes thought, although the captain still looked uneasy in these surroundings. Despite her acquiescence to the terms of the treaty, Kes knew the captain didn't trust the Vidiians.   
  
_Nothing worthwhile is ever easy,_ Kes thought. _There is so much at stake here, for the Ocampa, for the Vidiians, and perhaps even for the Federation, that we all need to work together if we are to succeed. Perhaps the problems of the past few days would turn out to be a blessing in the long run--something that brought the three factions together in a common goal more than anything else could have done._  
  
She hoped so. More than anything else in her life, she hoped so.  
  
President Dop took the podium, and the room fell silent for his introductory address. He recognized all the dignitaries present and thanked them for coming. "We are assembled on this momentous occasion to enter into a treaty of alliance with two great peoples: our near neighbor, the Ocampa, and our distant friend, the United Federation of Planets. By coming together to build a new colony, a new world, we are each affirming our dedication to tolerance, to mutual respect, and most of all, to peace. May time prove that a new chapter in Vidiian history began today, at this moment, with this agreement--a chapter in which we once again will live in harmony with our neighbors--and with ourselves."  
  
With that, he left the podium and took his place at the table with Ambassador Diaza and Vertris. Dop picked up the first of three PADDs in front of him and, with a flourish, pressed his thumbprint against the screen. He handed the PADD to Vertris, who did likewise and gave it to Diaza.  
  
The Federation ambassador then passed the PADD to Kes. She accepted it, even though she had not expected to have any formal role in the proceedings. Kes looked at President Dop and Vertris, who were both smiling at her, and then at Denara, who was pressing her thumb into her palm as if her hand was a PADD. Kes was surprised but pleased they meant to honor her in this way. Knowing full well that she held her people's future in her hands, and with a dazzling smile, Kes pressed her thumb to the screen with all her strength.  
  
Come what may, they were all committed now. The New Earth Colony was a reality at last.  
  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> **Next Up: "Planetfall," by Julie**\-- They've finally arrived! The Federation colonists and the Keyannin refugee Distor Stann disembark from _Pioneer_ to begin building new lives on New Earth. No one anticipated interference from the Romulan "observers."


End file.
